Reconstruction
by GeekBastard23
Summary: When Gibbs is attacked and severely injured during a case, Tony is left to pick up the pieces. Desperately, he tries to do everything in his power to help reconstruct what they once had, while barely holding on himself. Gibbs/Tony Slash.
1. Part I Waiting: Realization

_A/N: Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters doesn't belong to me. This is just for fun._

* * *

_**Reconstruction**_

_**Part I: Waiting  
**_

_****_Chapter One:_ Realization_

It had been three weeks.

Three freaking weeks and Tony was still able to hear the gut-wrenching, sickening sound that would change his life. He could still hear his own rapid breathing, his pulse rushing loudly through his ears and McGee's footsteps right behind him. He vaguely remembered shouting something at Ziva about hurrying the fuck up over the radio, but he couldn't remember the exact words anymore. However, he could still feel his blood running cold when they had finally rounded the final corner towards their boss and had realized that they were too late – just too fucking late. Though, they had arrived just in time to stand and watch in horror.

Tony still remembered it well. After all, it was playing in slow motion in front of his inner eye every single time he actually managed to fall asleep.

He could still see the guy lunge out towards the almost lifeless and severely bleeding body that was lying on the concrete in front of him. Like in trance, Tony had watched the guy hit one final blow on his boss; right on the back of his head, knocking all life out of him. And it had felt like all life had been knocked out of Tony, too. For a few long moments, he hadn't been able to remember how to shoot, how to move, hell, how to even breathe. It all hadn't seemed real. And - he had felt like dying himself right then, right there. How could he have let it happen? How could he have let Gibbs down like that?

He had still been staring at the lifeless form that was his boss when something had brushed against his side and he had realized that it was McGee who, in a moment of what had to be sheer rage and frivolity, had run forwards to tackle the attacker to the ground. To this day, Tony had no idea how his skinny partner had been able to wrestle down the guy that was twice his size, but maybe it had been the adrenaline that rushed through his veins that had made him do it. Tony didn't know and frankly, couldn't even bring himself to care. In fact, he had still been standing and staring when McGee had already cuffed the attacker and had then hurried to get to Gibbs. Only when he had been about to touch his boss, had Tony's instincts kicked in again and he had rushed to his side.

In the wee hours of the night, whenever Tony's defenses were down far enough to let himself think about those minutes, he couldn't help but wonder if things would be different had he reacted more quickly, had reached his boss earlier. Those thoughts didn't help but he couldn't stop them from coming. He knew that blaming himself for what had happened would not bring Gibbs back to him and yet they ate him up alive and he couldn't do anything about it.

While those few minutes seemed to have burnt themselves into his brain for all times to come, Tony wasn't able to completely recollect those that followed. He feebly remembered trying to stop the blood from, well, bleeding but it had seemed to no avail, as Gibbs had bled so profusely that Tony hadn't even known where to start putting pressure on. He also remembered Ziva calling an ambulance and with quite some embarrassment remembered the stinging in his eyes, too, and the tears that had almost fogged up his vision completely. He hadn't wanted to let go of the body, that was still warm but getting colder by the second, when the EMTs had arrived and he had only loosened his grip on him when Ziva had forcefully and yet surprisingly softly coaxed him to let the EMTs do their work and that Tony couldn't possibly help Gibbs right then.

And that was the worst of it. He hadn't been able to help Gibbs then and he couldn't help him now, either.

Now – that was in the hospital three weeks later. Gibbs had never regained consciousness since the beating. The doctors had been able to repair the various broken bones and had managed to keep the swelling in his brain in check, but Gibbs was still only lying there, just as lifeless as he had been on the hard concrete a couple of weeks previously. Tony had never left his side ever since then, save for the couple of showers he had taken and handing his leave of absence to the director. He had seen Gibbs like that before when that goddamn bomb had gone off a couple of years previously, and yet this time it was a totally different experience.

This time, his heart ached whenever he looked at the man, who seemed older than he ever could remember. Things had changed since the last time. So many things and Tony simply couldn't shrug off the feeling that if he had just done more for the guy, things would be even more different because Gibbs wouldn't lie there, fighting for his life with every breath he was taking.

But it wasn't just Gibbs' life that was hanging by a thread these days. Tony also felt like he was dying with every minute that his boss didn't wake up. The man had changed his life in so many ways those last couple of years that Tony couldn't imagine a world without him. He couldn't stand the thought of having to work without his boss, couldn't stand the thought of never getting head-slapped again and he simply couldn't stand the thought of going home and Jethro wouldn't be there; wouldn't be there to hold him at night, wouldn't be there – simply there.

Like every morning in the last three weeks, Tony watched the sun rise slowly through the window of the hospital room, praying to anybody that would listen that this would be the day that would change everything back around again; that he would wake up from this nightmare and would finally be able to talk to Jethro again. But when the doctor showed up a couple of minutes later for the usual morning round, Tony felt his gut twitch uncomfortably as he saw the look on Dr. Martin's face.

"Agent DiNozzo," he said. "I think it's time to talk about taking him off of life support."

And just like that, everything changed.

* * *

_A/N: The outline for the entire story is finished; so are the first few chapters. Would love to hear your thoughts on this so far and let me know if you want it continued! :)_


	2. Part I Waiting: Desperation

_A/N: Wow, thanks for the feedback, guys! You really made my day! :) Fair warning: I'm not a doctor, nor do I have the slightest medical training, so everything in this chapter is solely based on my lousy research... if there are any obvious mistakes, make sure to point them out to me ;) Hope you like it._

* * *

Chapter Two_: Desperation  
_

"Taking him…?" Tony trailed off, as the words finally settled in.

He blinked a couple of times before he remembered how to breathe. He had known that there was the possibility that Jethro would not make it, but right until that moment, he had refused to think about it. It had been that one possibility that simply wasn't one. Gibbs would not be taken away from him like that. Not when Tony was in charge of that. He simply wouldn't let it happen.

"Off life support, yes," Dr. Martin's calm voice cut through his inner turmoil like a knife. "I know this is a very difficult time for you, Agent DiNozzo, but there was no change in his health at all. I'm sorry to tell you like this, but if we continue this, we are just prolonging the inevitable."

Tony stared at him, shaking his head and feeling like his insides had been dipped into ice cold water.

"No. No. No. No," he mumbled and turned to look at the lifeless form that was his partner.

Tony's pulse sped up and his gut was churning uncomfortably in the knowledge that he might actually have no other choice than to do it. Why in the world had he ever signed that piece of paper that had made him the ruler of Jethro's life in case of a situation like that? He simply could have refused. But he hadn't and now he felt the weight of his decision crashing down on him at full speed. And he had no idea how not to suffocate under it. As if from far away, he heard Dr. Martin clear his throat loudly and Tony reluctantly averted his gaze from Gibbs to look at the physician instead.

"I understand," the man continued rather softly now. "That this is a lot to take in right now. You don't have to make the decision right away. Talk to your family, friends. And if you got any questions, anything at all, just give me a call."

Tony stared at him for a moment and then as if in trance felt himself nodding. Dr. Martin gave him a sad smile and then left him sitting there, staring at the spot where he had just vanished. Tony sank back into his chair, unable to form a coherent thought, unable to look at Jethro just yet, unable even to cry. So, this was it. Were these really the last hours of Jethro's life? Not at some battlefield or the other, not chasing down a suspect, but in a goddamn hospital and at Tony's own hands? This simply couldn't be true. This was just a nightmare that wouldn't end. He couldn't lose Jethro like this. He couldn't…

Finally, the tears started to roll down his cheeks and he heard someone sobbing loudly before he realized that it was him. He stretched out his hand and laid it upon Jethro's, squeezing it softly, urging it to twitch in a way of showing him that his partner was still in there somewhere.

But it remained still, no matter just how much he wished it to move.

.

Tony had no idea how long he had been sitting there, his hand upon Gibbs', staring at the guy. And he had no idea when he had finally gotten up from the uncomfortable plastic chair that had become his home over those last three weeks and had actually made the necessary calls. But there he was sitting now, for the first time not in, but in front of the room, looking into the faces of his friends – family, really.

His desperation must have shown on his face in some way or another - It wasn't like he would hide anything these days anyway. Gibbs' situation had hit all of them very hard, and Tony's sorrow was theirs, too, to some degree. – because as soon as Abby and Ziva had taken a single look at him, their faces had fallen and Abby had clasped her hand over her mouth as she had hurried towards him. By the time she had pulled him into a fierce hug, tears were already streaming down her face, smearing up her make-up. Even though Tony had returned the hug, he had wished she wouldn't have. Wouldn't have hugged him, wouldn't have cried. He simply couldn't take it. He couldn't take being the strong one for her because he simply wasn't. He was on the verge of breaking down, he knew that, and yet he had to be there and tell his friends.

He had never been so thankful to see McGee arrive, as he had immediately taken over the task of calming down Abby. Tony had thrown him a grateful glance and Tim had just nodded solemnly in return, his eyes giving away his sheer fear all the same. Ducky had been the last to arrive and once the team was assembled – Jackson wouldn't be there for another few hours – Tony slumped back down onto the chair, running a shaky hand through his rather long hair as he desperately tried to regain some kind of composure. He steeled himself for the words that would not come easily out of his mouth and would forever haunt him, but he needed to tell them, he had no other choice. So he let out one final trembling breath before he looked up at them and spoke out what all of them had probably known ever since he had called them.

"The doctors want to take him off life support."

He heard Abby gasp for air loudly, heard McGee let out a soft "No" and felt Ziva sink down onto a chair next to him. But he couldn't look at them, couldn't stand to watch their reactions. He simply wasn't able to because all of them had been his lifeline those last couple of weeks whenever things had gotten too rough. But now the time had come when they simply weren't able to help him anymore.

Silence was reigning for a very long time after his words and Tony felt like it was suffocating him, but he couldn't bring himself to disrupt it and it didn't seem like it mattered anyway. He was hanging in his thoughts, frantically looking for a way out of this mess and hadn't even realized that both Ducky and Palmer had retreated from the scene until they were coming back towards them, looking just as lost as Tony felt.

"We, uh," Ducky hesitantly and uncharacteristically started. "That is Mr. Palmer and I, have just talked to Jethro's doctors and sadly, we have come to the conclusion that it does seem like the reasonable solution to…"

"Reasonable solution?" Tony interrupted him only above a whisper. "Reasonable solution? How is this a reasonable solution, Ducky? How can it ever…?"

"I know this is hard, Anthony," Ducky tried to soothe him and his voice was breaking now, stealing all of Tony's momentary thunder. "But it seems like his traumatic brain injury is sadly as severe as it can be. The MRI images show that the diffuse axonal injury is extensive which means that the damage occurs over a widespread area. You already know this, of course. The doctors have had the hope that it would get better, but this hasn't been the case. Ninety percent of patients with severe DAI never regain consciousness and there has been nothing in Jethro's condition that would suggest otherwise. I'm so sorry."

Tony stared at him for a few long moments. He had already known all of this, had known that the chances of Jethro waking up were pretty slim, but did Ducky not just say that there was still a chance that he might regain consciousness?

"But that means that there are still ten percent who do wake up," he heard Abby say quietly, speaking his exact thought out loud.

"There are," Palmer replied just as calmly, his eyes darting around the hallway, never settling on one of his friends. "But even if he does wake up, it is very likely that he'll stay in a persistent vegetative state or remain significantly impaired for the rest of his life. It seems like this way, Tony would make sure that he doesn't have to suffer any longer, I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Tony shouted as he sprang up, not knowing why he was feeling so angry all of a sudden, when all he really wanted to do was go sit in a corner and cry. "You're sorry?" he made a step towards Palmer who intuitively backed away from him. "What would you do if this was Breena lying there? Would you just go in there and say what the hell? There's still a ten percent probability that she might wake up, but I can't take the chances that she won't ever be the same, so I'll rather kill her? Huh? Would you?"

He watched Palmer's eyes grow wide in horror and they seemed brighter than he had ever seen them before Tony realized what he had just done. He almost imperceptibly shook his head, causing a few strands of hair fall onto his forehead. Palmer in the meantime was still staring at him struck with horror, but Tony couldn't bring himself to care. Only when he felt a warm hand, belonging to Ziva, on his forearm, did Tony sink back down onto his chair, desperately trying to stop the tears from rolling.

"I'm sorry, Jimmy," he finally mumbled, realizing that Palmer had simply offered an opinion. "It's not your fault. It's just… I can't… sorry."

"It's okay, Tony," the younger man replied, still eyeing him rather warily, but he nevertheless stepped forward and softly squeezed his shoulder.

Tony looked up at him for a moment and nodded once before he fixed his glance on his shoes again. He knew that Palmer and Ducky were right, it was the most prudent and reasonable choice. But he couldn't do it. Simply couldn't do it because for the rest of life, he would wonder if he had done the wrong thing. How would he be able to live with himself?

He hadn't been aware that he had started to cry again until he felt the tears roll down his cheeks. He hurried to wipe them away, so that the others wouldn't see, but then he realized that there was only Ziva still sitting there with him. The others were gone. She still had her hand on his arm, providing warmth and an odd form of comfort.

"I just don't know what to do," he finally mumbled, still staring at the floor. "I just can't make the decision. You know… I promised him that I wouldn't chicken out and that I'd take care of him, but how can I kill him if there's still that tiny little chance that he's going to wake up? How can I do that, Ziva?"

"You would not be killing him, Tony," Ziva said and then got up from her chair to squat down in front of him, her arms resting on his thighs, so that he couldn't help but look into her sad brown eyes. "Maybe you would do him a favor. Maybe he is hurting and it would really be the best to move on, you know. It is not killing if you let the one you love go."

Tony stared at her for a few long moments, trying to process everything she had just said. He knew her words to be true, but that didn't mean that he would have to accept them.

"I can't do it," he finally said in a trembling voice. "What if… I mean… what would you do?"

"I cannot make that decision for you," Ziva sighed, tapping her knuckles against his knees. "And I do not have the medical insights to make a well-informed suggestion. I am sorry."

Tony nodded mutely and blinked a couple of times, trying to get rid of the tears and trying to pull himself together. He knew that Ziva was right and that it was only his decision. He desperately wanted the others to help him, but he realized that it was that kind of thing he had to go through alone in the end.

"What if I…," he continued talking after a very long pause. "What if I don't do it right away? I mean, the insurance is covered and all, what if I let myself believe that there is still a chance and take my chances?"

"I guess, you can do that," Ziva replied, the softest of a smile playing on her lips. "But you have to set a deadline for it, Tony. And you have to give yourself and me the promise that you will do it once it has to be done."

Tony nodded, suddenly feeling strangely relieved that Ziva hadn't rebuked him for his suggestion. He didn't know if it was a reasonable one, but he didn't care. He simply couldn't give Jethro up after such a short time. He just couldn't do it, yet. Maybe in a month or so, his mind would be clearer and he'd realize that he couldn't prolong the inevitable any longer. He also knew that his friends would accept his decision, too. They had been there for him through it all and they would still be there afterwards. At least, he desperately hoped so.

"Promise me," he whispered a while later, looking Ziva squarely into her eyes. "That you won't hate me if I really pull the plug?"

"I will not hate you," Ziva replied equally quietly, her eyes telling him that she wasn't lying. "I love Gibbs like a father, but I trust you."

"If Gibbs is your father, then what am I? The creepy stepmom?" Tony asked before he realized what he had just done.

He clasped his hand over his mouth, feeling like he had just betrayed everything and everyone he ever cared for. Ziva, however, smiled at him sympathetically.

"It was just a joke, Tony. You will not kill Gibbs by telling a joke or laughing. I am sure he would want you to laugh because it is what you do best."

Tony stared at her, feeling the goddamn tears once again sting his eyes, making his vision slightly blurry.

"God, I'm such a mess," he pressed out and then felt himself enveloped in a hug.

And maybe it was what made the difference right there and then. Ziva had never hugged him before and he realized only now that he needed her to be on his side. Desperately needed her to back him up in his decision.

"You are not a mess," she tried to soothe him. "You have been holding up so great. I would not have been able to do it like that. And I trust you to make the right decision now because you always do, Tony. You always do."

Tony nodded mutely and then buried his face in her shoulder, hiding it from the world and not caring that it wasn't a thing they'd normally do. It didn't matter. He just needed someone to hold on to and Ziva had been incredibly supportive these last three weeks. He knew he could count on her no matter what.

"I think I'll wait," he finally concluded. "Just for another three weeks. I think I owe him that much. Give him that one chance to fight. Because if Gibbs is good at one thing, it's fighting."


	3. Part I Waiting: Consolation

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews everybody!_

* * *

Chapter Three: _Consolation_

After he had told the doctors that he wanted to wait a little while longer, Tony had gone back to sit on his uncomfortable chair and stare at Jethro. Now that his mind was settled a bit, it was easier to look at him again, it was easier not to see the dying man lying there but the partner he loved. Their relationship had started to everyone's surprise three years previously. While the team's reactions had ranged from ecstatic to shocked, they had all accepted it in no time. Tony still wasn't quite sure how they had made it work so well and he didn't care, either. All he knew was that he loved the guy like he had never loved anyone before, but that made it only that much harder to see him like this now. Tony had always known that their job was dangerous and that from one moment to the next Jethro could be dead. But he had never imagined that they would end up like this. It simply wasn't the way that the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs would surrender to death. Tony knew, though, that he would have to accept it if Jethro wouldn't wake up in the course of the next three weeks. The possibility was more real than ever before and Tony felt cold sweat break out on his forehead at the mere thought of it.

But before he could dwell on it for too long, the door behind him opened and with great relief he saw Jethro's father walk in, a soft smile on his lips. He nodded at Tony and then sat down next to him.

"Sorry that it took so long. There's been an accident on the interstate. Street's been a total mess. But never mind. How are you doing?" Jackson asked surprisingly softly.

"Don't ask," Tony replied mutely, noting that the guy had inquired about his health and not about his son's.

"Stupid question, I should have realized," the older man said, his glance wandering towards his son. "Your friend Abby called me and told me you wanted to wait."

"Yeah," Tony pressed out, not sure what Jack would think of it, this was his son they were talking about after all. "I don't know what I'm doing really," he added quietly. "I just can't let him go right now. I… I…"

"It's okay, Tony," Jackson replied only above a whisper and reached out his hand to squeeze Tony's shoulder. "I trust you on this."

"Funny how that goes," he answered reluctantly. "Everyone says that and here I am, not trusting myself with anything. I should have never signed that goddamn form."

"Listen, Tony," Jack sighed. "Leroy here trusted you with this kind of decision and I'm sure he's had his reasons for that."

"But it was never supposed to be like this, Jack. It's just… ah hell, I don't know. I always imagined when it happened we would be like ninety and would have lived the life, you know. Not like this, not when everything was alright three weeks ago. Not when I haven't done anything to save him, for god's sake."

He looked at Jackson's face for a moment and saw the same kind of desperation he felt mirrored there and yet Jack seemed so much calmer than Tony was. For a split of a second, he wished that Jethro had never asked him to sign the goddamn piece of paper and would have left it in the hands of his father because he obviously seemed to be dealing with it so much better. But the second passed and Tony realized that not even his worst enemy would deserve to be in charge of this.

He let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair, combing his fingers through his hair and staring at Jethro once again. They remained silent for a very long time and Tony felt himself calm down a notch. It had to be something in their genes because it was only in the presence of either of the Gibbs' that Tony ever felt truly comfortable with silence. He had no clue how long they had already been sitting there when Jackson shifted uncomfortably in his chair, causing Tony to avert his gaze from Jethro.

"You want something? Coffee? Tea? Anything?"

"I'm fine, really. But maybe it's time for us to go home, huh?"

Tony stared at him for a few moments, briefly thinking about their bed at home before he realized that he wouldn't sleep, even if only a second, without Jethro there. So, he just shook his head.

"I can call you a cab. I'll stay here."

"When have you last left the hospital, Tony?" Jackson asked now, tilting his head a bit to the right as a look of concern crossed his face.

"Dunno," Tony shrugged. "When I gave Vance the heads-up that I won't be at work for a while, I guess."

"Which was when exactly?"

"The day after…," Tony stopped himself, trying not to think about the horrible scene that would show up whenever he caught a few minutes of sleep. "You know."

"Tony, you need to get home. You need to sleep, take care of yourself. You don't have to be here all the time."

"Yeah, I do," Tony replied vehemently, wondering if Jackson really thought he'd leave Jethro alone like this.

"No, you don't," Jackson softly said. "Just because you let yourself get some sleep, hell, take a shower, doesn't mean you're giving up hope or letting him down."

Tony shook his head and then looked at Jethro again, absent-mindedly taking his hand and running a thumb over the back of his hand.

"You don't understand," he finally continued quietly. "I can't go home. Everything is still the same there. It'll be like all of this didn't happen and the house will smell of him and… and… I just can't go there, okay? It's too hard."

"I know, Tony, I've been there before. But you'll have to go back eventually. And trust me, it doesn't get easier if you wait any longer. You can't keep on living on that chair."

"Yes, I can," Tony replied defiantly, causing Jackson to actually chuckle for a moment before he continued earnestly.

"You'll lose yourself here. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that you're here and that you're doing all of this for Leroy. I really am. But I can't keep watching you tearing yourself apart over a thing that was completely out of your hand."

Tony averted his glance from Jackson once again, only to realize that he couldn't look at Jethro, either. The guy had been the reason that Tony was finally happy again, had been the reason that the last three years were the best of his life and yet Tony had managed to fail him like that. He knew that if he had been just a minute, hell, half a minute, faster, he would have been able to save his partner from that last blow, he would have been able to hold him and tell him that everything would be alright. But instead, he hadn't been there fast enough and had been so shocked that he didn't even managed to choke out one single word of comfort.

"But it was my fault," he finally mumbled to nobody in particular.

"No, Tony," Jackson replied resolutely. "It wasn't. You and Tim did everything you could have done. It was this guy's fault and you know that. And it's done now. As much as I wish we could turn back time, we can't. But don't beat yourself up. Please?"

Tony turned to stare at him, already feeling the treacherous stinging in his eyes again. He had never been a crying man, but over the last weeks, he had cried so many times that he wasn't even sure how there could still be tears left in him. Jackson was right. He couldn't change it anymore. But that didn't mean that he wouldn't keep on blaming himself. He knew that it was his fault and no one, not even Jack, would be able to convince him otherwise. It was all empty words to him and even though the guy had been incredible lately, it wasn't enough to hear it from him. It simply wasn't enough.

He rapidly scrubbed his hand over his face and then took a deep breath, making sure that his voice wouldn't break.

"I know I can't change anything, Jack. But it doesn't stop me from wondering. And yeah, I know, I shouldn't do that because it only makes it harder and all. But I'm not Michael Fucking Madsen and made of steel. I just can't stop it and that's that. I have to stay here. I can't go home and look at all of Jethro's clothes and things. I just can't do it right now. I promise I will go back eventually. But not tonight. I just can't. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Jackson said and stood up, squeezing the younger man's shoulder. "I understand. Just remember that you're not the only one who feels like that. There's also other people who need him and more importantly, they need you, too. Don't forget that they're just as worried as you are. I'm not saying you have to go and take care of them because I know you can't do that right now, but give them the chance to take care of you instead. I've made the same mistake when Leroy's mom died. I tried to deal with it alone and forgot that it was just as hard for the boy. I've lost him back then."

Tony turned to look at Jethro as he nodded mutely, trying to understand what Jackson had just told him. He might be right after all, but all he really wanted to do was sit here and pray to any god that would listen that Jethro would wake up. He couldn't deal with people very well right now. Jackson must have sensed his inner turmoil because when he finally continued to talk, his voice was soft and oddly beaten again.

"I'll get going then. I take it the door's still not locked?" When Tony nodded, he went on. "I'll come back tomorrow and bring some stuff for you. But think about what I've just said, will you? I might be losing one son very soon, not sure I can stand losing the second one, too, Tony."

With that he was out the door, leaving Tony staring after him in wonder. Jackson had been delighted when they had first told him that they were a couple now and Tony had always known that the guy liked him, but he had not known just how highly he actually thought of him. He subtly shook his head, trying to clear it before he shifted his chair closer towards the bed where Jethro was still lying lifelessly. He then laid his arms onto the mattress and put his head on them, so that he was on the same level than his partner.

"What do I do?" he finally whispered. "God, I hope you're not in pain, Jethro. I just can't let you go just yet, I hope you understand that. I know I'm not myself right now, but I just can't take it. I wish we could disappear from here, from those stupid gray walls and the goddamn hospital smell. Remember the cabin where you wanted to take me this winter? I wish we could go there and just be, you know. Take a walk, watch the birds, cook steaks over the fire, whatever. I just want us to be us again and not like this. I don't even know if you're still in there somewhere, but I'm begging you. Please, show me that keeping it up was the right thing to do, okay? Please."

He kept on looking at Jethro for a very long time, trying to memorize every line on his face, every little scar and every feature. The day had been long, decisions hard and yet, he felt like he would not sleep for at least another couple of hours. He simply didn't want to. He was determined to spend as much time as possible with Jethro and he wasn't going to waste it on sleep.

Jackson's words came back to his mind again that he needed to take care of himself, but he didn't see the point. He was fine while Gibbs was lying there, fighting for his life. The least he could was to be there for him no matter what would happen – even if nothing would ever happen again. He could still go and tear himself apart and put himself back together afterwards if Jethro wouldn't make it. He knew the reality of the situation and he knew that his chances were so damn slim, but at least they were still there and he wouldn't give up on him.

He had gotten used to Jethro's softer side over the course of the last three years and still, in Tony's eyes, the older man was still the invincible Leroy Jethro Gibbs who could master everything. He knew that the guy wasn't Superman or anything, but it was enough for him to believe that maybe Jethro would make it happen anyway, would pull through this and would be there again. Right at that moment, all Tony could do was wishing and begging and praying. He knew he was weak but he couldn't have cared less.

"I'm sorry," he finally said out loud. "For everything, I am so sorry."

He carefully took hold of Jethro's hand, then lifted it to the back of his head and softly slapped himself with it.

"Don't apologize," he said in a horrible attempt to imitate his partner. "It's a sign of weakness."

He gave a sigh and let Jethro's hand sink down onto the mattress again. He looked at him and realized that if he only concentrated hard enough, he could fool himself into thinking that the older man's lips had just twitched in an attempt to hold back his famous half-smile.

* * *

_A/N: Yes, I realized that nothing much has happened in this one, but I promise it does serve its purpose, as you'll see in the next chapter. I'd still love to hear your thoughts, though._


	4. Part I Waiting: Trepidation

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys!_

* * *

Chapter Four: _Trepidation_

"Tony?" Ashley, the pretty nurse, stuck her head in at the door. "There's someone here for Agent Gibbs. He's asking if it's okay for him to see him. Says his name is Tobias Fornell."

Tony sighed and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. He shrugged almost imperceptibly before he nodded.

"Sure."

He wasn't exactly keen on having to talk to Fornell, but it wasn't like he was the only one that wanted to see how Jethro was doing. The ICU restrictions usually only allowed family members to visit patients, but it seemed like that they had loosened them for the time being. The team had been there as many times as they could and along with them, some other more or less close friends and to Tony's utter surprise his own dad. Tony Sr. had shown up a week previously, had simply sat down next to him and had never uttered a single word in those three hours he had been there. And yet, it had managed to reduce Tony into a crying mess after his father had gone back to his hotel. Tony didn't even know why he had come because his dad had never been particularly fond of Jethro or their relationship. He had accepted it, but had never made a move to actually get to know Tony's partner or had shown any interest in how they were doing. But the fact that he had booked himself into a hotel in DC to be there now was enough for Tony to know that he could count on him, too, if things went from really bad to worse.

But Tony wasn't fooling himself into believing that the visitors were just coming around to inquire about Jethro's health. They were here to say goodbye to him and with every person, Tony's gut started to churn a bit more, his hands started to sweat a bit more and his brain would give him yet another shout out that he was fighting a lost cause here.

Two weeks had gone by since he had made the decision and it was only another one before he would have to effectively put an end to his partner's life. Two weeks had passed without a change. Jethro's health was just as it had been before and slowly but steadily Tony felt his own faith vanish. He knew that it wasn't the way it was supposed to be. But maybe he had actually been fooling himself when he had prolonged all of this. Sometimes, in the small hours of the morning when everything, except for the ever-present beeping of the heart monitor, was quiet around him, he would simply look at Jethro, desperately willing him to move. And with every minute that passed without a change, Tony would get more hopeless and even more frantic. He couldn't help but wonder if he should just release Jethro from all this torment and if maybe he should even release himself from it. But every time this particular thought reached his mind, he felt his gut twitch uncomfortably in the knowledge that he would give up on the one thing that had kept him alive so many times, would give up on the one thing that meant most to him and he simply wasn't able to do that.

He was roused from his thoughts by a soft knock on the door now and Tony sighed once again before he steeled himself and answered.

"Come on in."

The door opened and Fornell stepped in. He was very pale and Tony realized that he had never seen him looking quite that lost. He awkwardly stood there for a moment, just inside the door, running a shaky hand through his hair as he stared at Gibbs. Tony immediately realized that Fornell hadn't been prepared to see him like that. Like so many people, including Tony himself, he had trouble reconciling the pale and lifeless body with the vibrant man Gibbs had used to be. Tony couldn't blame him, Jethro had gotten rather skinny, his complexion was gray-ish and he looked exactly like Tony felt these days – forlorn. He heard Fornell take a deep breath, as if he was trying to cheer himself on to progress further into the room, before he finally stepped forwards and sat down next to Tony. They remained silent for a while and Tony could almost feel the uneasiness radiate from the older man and somehow it suddenly made Tony nervous.

"So, how is he?" Fornell finally asked quietly, as if trying not to wake Jethro up.

"The same."

"Damn," Fornell just mumbled as he unwaveringly stared at Gibbs in front of him. "How long…?"

Tony didn't need to hear the end of that question to know what the guy wanted to ask and he felt the by now familiar sickness boil up inside of him.

"A week," he forced himself to answer.

"Hell, I'm sorry, DiNozzo," he replied, strangely enough not pronouncing his name the old Italian way this time.

"What for?" Tony asked irritably, never once averting his glance from Jethro.

"For having to do this. Can't imagine what it must feel like."

"I don't have to do anything, Fornell," Tony replied sharper than he had intended.

He hadn't been prepared that Fornell of all people would come in here with no hope at all. With no hope that Jethro could pull through it still. He wanted to stop people from trying to shred the last little piece of hope that Tony was still carrying inside of him. Every goddamn person who had come had only made it harder to keep on hanging on. He didn't need them to tell him how strong he was, how proud they were of his faith and his ability to hang in there. What he needed were people who told him that he was right about keeping it up a little bit longer. He needed people to reassure him, but except for Ziva, Jackson and Abby, nobody had done it and Tony wasn't quite sure how long he would be able to keep up the appearance that he was still completely confident about his decision.

He forced himself to look at Fornell instead of Jethro now and saw that guy's cheeks had gotten slightly pink now.

"He's not dead, yet," he finally mumbled, not sure if he was reassuring the FBI agent or himself. "He's not dead yet, so I don't have to do anything."

"Right, DiNozzo," Fornell said and Tony could almost see Fornell's determination to look at it this way settling in. "I shouldn't just assume, right? It's one of the man's golden rules."

"You're right."

"Yeah," Fornell trailed off now as he sluggishly heaved himself out of the chair. "I'll get going, then. Was never quite comfortable only being around you two," he tried to joke and Tony gave a nod at that.

When the guy was already halfway out the door, he turned around again and looked at Tony with the slightest of smiles, though it did seem rather off. "I don't know what to say to you. I know we should still hope and all, but… hell, it's pretty damn hard and I know I shouldn't, but I'm slowly losing it… hope that is. So… yeah… I can see that you clearly haven't and I have to admire that, I guess."

"No, I haven't," Tony interrupted Fornell's awkward statement. "And I won't. Though people coming in all the time, saying goodbye to him doesn't exactly make it easier."

"I didn't," the older man started but stopped short under Tony's glare.

"You fucking did and I guess it's even okay 'cause Jethro deserves a proper goodbye in case..." he trailed off, averting his glance from Fornell.

"I didn't mean to, DiNozzo."

"I know you didn't. But people just can't help it and I get that because, well, it all looks pretty awful right now. But it was my decision to put up with it and I don't need people telling me that I'm just procrastinating. I wanted to give him that one chance and even if a hundred people come in here and fucking say that I was wrong, it won't change my mind. So… just go away, Tobias. Just… go. Please."

The older man looked at him with an expression on his face that Tony couldn't quite place before he simply nodded at him and with one last look at Gibbs left the room.

Tony took a deep breath and then moved his chair closer towards Jethro's bed. He felt tears sting his eyes once more but willed them down for the moment; he had more important things to do than cry. He leaned forward a bit and then softly whispered into Gibbs' ear. "Sorry, I didn't mean to. I know he's your friend and all, but I'm not sure I can stand people like him any longer. God, I hope you understand, Jethro."

But, of course, Jethro didn't answer, just continued to lie there like nothing had happened. Tony sighed and leaned back again, trying to clear his mind somewhat when yet another knock on the door interrupted his inner queries. A few seconds later, Abby came in with a curious expression on her face.

"Hey Tony," she said a little too cheerfully as she bent down and placed a kiss first on Tony's cheek and then on Gibbs'.

"Hey Abs."

He had taken Jackson's advice and had let people in, had let Abby and Ziva keep him company from time to time. McGee, Palmer and Ducky were there, too, but for some reason, it had been the two women that had occasionally managed to put him at ease a little bit. Tony didn't know why that was, maybe the fact that they had never questioned his decision, had never asked how he was dealing with all of this, made it all easier. He didn't know for sure and it wasn't like it really mattered. They simply had been there and it was all that Tony wanted at the moment.

"Fornell was just in here, wasn't he?" Abby asked now, walking over to the window to watch a bird that was sitting on a branch in a nearby tree.

"Yeah," Tony replied quietly, not exactly keen on talking about him.

"What did he say? He looked pretty distraught and didn't even notice me. And trust me, it's pretty hard not to notice me," she concluded, gesturing towards her usual outrageous outfit.

"Nothing," he mumbled, feeling even more beaten than before. "Just came by to fucking say goodbye like everyone else is."

Abby turned to look at him at the sudden outburst, but Tony immediately averted his eyes from her to look at Jethro instead, trusting him to calm him down like he always had. But it didn't really work this time because Abby came to sit down next to him, put a finger under his chin to make him look at her and then quietly started to talk.

"Don't be angry with him, Tony. You can't blame them for feeling like that. And I know you don't want to hear it right now, but I think you have to. I know it's still a week till your ultimatum, but you have to start to consider the possibility that he won't make it, Tony. I know it's hard, but if he really doesn't pull through, I want you to be prepared, okay? I want you to have actually said goodbye to him because impossible as it might seem, you'll need to in order to move on."

Tony stared at her for a moment or two, trying to figure out whether he was supposed to cry now or shout at her. Deep down he knew that she was right but as of now he had yet to accept it, had yet to accept that things wouldn't change in the course of the following week. He just wasn't ready yet and he had counted on Abby to be on his side. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Had she given up hope, too, all of a sudden? Or did she never actually have faith in Gibbs in the first place?

"You know what, Abby?" he desperately tried to keep his voice calm as he sprang up and started to pace around the room, frantically avoiding to look at her. "Don't. Just don't. I don't want to hear anything you want to say 'cause you sound just like all the others. All of them. I thought you were on my side, I thought you still have that little piece of hope left somewhere that Jethro will not die. But I can see that it's all been empty words. You never thought there was still a chance, did you?"

"No, Tony," Abby interrupted him fervently, but Tony didn't listen.

"You never believed that he would pull through. You just wanted to reassure me. And you know what? Don't. I don't need anyone's pity. I don't need anyone's opinion on anything. You want me to say goodbye to him? I can't do that, Abby. I can't do that until those freaking three weeks have passed. I still got that one week left and I won't give him up till then. You might and everybody else might already have, but I won't. Did Jethro give up when everybody thought I'd die of the Plague? No, he didn't because he had faith in me. And now, I'm returning the favor. You can say whatever you want now, but I won't listen. Go say goodbye to him if you want, but don't you try talk to me again about doing it myself."

"Tony," Abby started again and her voice was trembling now, but it wasn't enough for him to stop pacing in order to look at her.

"I don't want to hear it," he said sharply, hoping that it would shut her up, but once again, Abby cut him off.

"No!" she said now and her tone of voice had suddenly changed and it made Tony stop for a moment as he gazed out the window. "Tony, look."

She was definitely crying now because her voice was breaking and Tony couldn't help but turn around because it was Abby after all and no matter just how angry he was at her, he didn't want her to cry. As his glance reached her, still sitting on one of the chair next to Jethro's bed, he realized that she wasn't even looking at him.

He followed her glance and then felt his heart miss a beat. Jethro was still lying there, was still pale and his eyes were still closed - but the index finger of his right hand was miraculously and wonderfully and earth-shatteringly and yet most definitely twitching.

.

Tony felt something warm spread inside of him and had momentarily trouble to keep on standing, but just like that, he knew that this was by all means the happiest moment in his entire life.


	5. Part I Waiting: Expectation

_A/N: Thanks again for your reviews! :) You're awesome._

* * *

Chapter Five: _Expectation_

Tony found himself blinking back the moisture in his eyes and realized that for the first time in the last five weeks, he was actually able to do so, was actually able to stop his tears from rolling. He felt oddly relieved about that but had no idea why that was and he didn't care to indulge in the passing thought for too long because there were more pressing matters to consider right now. He was still standing there by the window, though, his eyes still resting on the one finger of Jethro's hand that had suddenly turned his world upside down. He knew that this didn't have to mean anything, he had read one too many reports about TBI after all, but he also knew that it _could_ mean the world, too. As if from far away, he heard Abby sobbing quietly, but he didn't have the energy and the will to avert his eyes from that hand to look at her.

"Is this really happening?" he asked then, realizing his voice was trembling.

"Yes," Abby answered and oddly enough hers was strong again all of a sudden, wasn't breaking for once. "Yes, it is, Tony."

"Good," he replied whispering. "That's good."

He kept on staring at the hand that had already stopped twitching again, but he didn't care. Gibbs had _moved_ and this was way better than nothing. He had no idea when Abby had pressed the button to call the nurses and he had no clue how long they had taken to come here, but all of a sudden, he was softly but forcefully shoved away from the bed and then just as gently taken by the hand by Abby and walked out of the room. He didn't want to leave the room, he felt anxious about not seeing Gibbs anymore, but still, he let it happen and he had no idea why that was. He was out of breath, felt hot and sweaty and his thoughts were all over the place and yet he was still able to see the finger twitch in front of his inner eye. With a start, he realized that it was the first time that his mind had shown him something different than the ever-present loop of that baseball bat hitting the back of Jethro's head.

"Tony?" he was torn out of his headspace by Abby.

He turned towards her and realized that they were sitting on two chairs in the hallway of the ICU and he had no idea how they had even gotten there. He blinked a couple of times before he nodded at her, causing her to smile at him ever so slightly.

"You okay, Tony?"

"Yeah," he replied before he shook his head. "No. I mean, I don't know."

"It's okay," Abby said, grabbing his hand and interlacing their fingers and Tony felt the warmth of her fingers spread through his own hand and up his arm.

He hadn't let anyone touch him like that ever since Ziva had given him that rather awkward hug a little over two weeks ago and he only noticed now how much he had craved any sort of physical contact. It wasn't the person he wanted to touch like that, but Abby's touch was warm and friendly enough for the time being and it was enough to pull him out of his headspace entirely.

"What now?" he finally asked, looking at her as if she knew all the answers.

"I don't know. I guess we'll have to wait and…"

"See," Tony finished her sentence; finished the sentence that seemed to be the favorite of all of Jethro's doctors.

'Wait and see' had become Tony's mantra over the last couple of weeks and had yet started to lose all meaning. But now, finally, he had _seen_ and not only waited and it suddenly made all the difference. He couldn't even remember why he had been angry mere minutes before, couldn't remember why he had shouted at Abby.

"I'm sorry about before," he mumbled nevertheless, knowing that the scientist would appreciate it.

"No, I have to apologize," she replied hastily. "You were right, I shouldn't have given up. I didn't even realize that I had, but you were right, Tony. It's not too late till it's too late."

Tony nodded and felt the slightest of a smile form on his lips. "Don't apologize," he finally said, causing Abby to actually chuckle next to him.

"It's a sign of weakness," they both finished at the same time and it felt so normal that Tony's gut started churn ever so slightly.

He didn't care to figure out the reason for that, though. He couldn't bring himself to care about anything else that wasn't linked to the man just inside the other room, who might or might not wake up slowly. They sat in silence for a very long time with Abby still holding his hand, giving him all the support he needed at the moment.

After a while, and Tony had no idea whether it was ten minutes after they had left the room or two hours, Dr. Martin closed the door behind him and approached them, his expression just as serious as it had always been, but Tony thought that there was something there that he hadn't seen before. He fervently hoped it was hope.

"Agent DiNozzo," he finally started. "It seems like there have been some changes in Agent Gibbs' condition. We don't know yet what has caused them and why it all came so quickly, but it does indeed seem like the cerebral edema is in control, the pressure's normal and he's getting enough oxygen for the moment. We don't know yet whether the slight movement of his hand has really anything to do with it, we have to wait and see."

Tony felt himself nod, not really sure whether the doctor was telling him that all of this was good or not. He continued to look into the doctor's face, as if it held all the answers and yet he had still no idea what to say, what to ask, what to do.

"So, what are our next steps?" Abby did him the favor and asked the one question that Tony hadn't even been able to form in his mind.

"We decided to reduce the sedation for the time being, so that we'll be able to examine what he's able to do. We want to see if he'll be able to wake up for a short while or if he can move. I don't want to give you too much hope at this point, chances are that the twitching was only temporary and a false alarm, but we want to monitor him closely over the next twenty-four hours, just in case. The most important thing is to be patient."

"Okay," Tony pressed out, feeling slightly queasy inside again at the doctor's words.

He knew that it didn't sound all that great, at least not as great as he had expected, but Dr. Martin had been wrong before, too, so maybe Jethro's chances were better than he had just made them out to be after all.

"Can I see him?" he asked, slightly increasing the pressure on Abby's hand.

"Yes, in fact I advise you to. In case he does indeed wake up, it might be better to have a familiar face around. That only goes for you, though, I'm sorry, Miss Scuito."

"It's okay," she just nodded at him before he turned to leave. "I'll call Ducky," she added. "I'm sure he'd want to know. Should I give anyone else a call?"

Tony looked at her for a moment before he shook his head. "I don't think you should. Ducky's fine because he is his personal physician and all, but don't tell anyone else. Don't tell them and raise their hopes. They'll be too disappointed if this doesn't work out."

_I'll be devastated enough as it is_. He thought to himself but didn't share that particular thought with Abby. He'd have to deal with it alone if things came to the worst and he knew that perfectly well. And Tony was certain that it would be worse than before. Before, he had lived with the fact that Jethro hadn't moved, hadn't opened his eyes and probably never would again. But now, things were different because he had shown signs of life and Tony simply couldn't pretend not to have seen it, in case Gibbs would go back to not moving.

Slightly shaking his head, he finally stood up and let Abby hug him.

"He's going make it, you'll see," she softly whispered into his ear and Tony felt himself nod despite himself.

Then, he slowly entered Jethro's room again, visibly shaking and anxious about what he'd find in there this time. He released a breath when he sat down on his chair and realized that nothing much had changed. The heart monitor was still beating regularly, the ever-present swoosh of the ventilator that was breathing for Gibbs was still there, too, and Tony felt himself relax gradually.

"The sedation will not ease up for another couple of hours," Ashley said softly as she adjusted something on the IV bag. "So it's not likely there's going to be any change until then. If you do spot something, though, let us know immediately, even when you don't know what it is exactly. You know him best, so it's more likely for you to notice any difference in him. I'll make sure to check in every half an hour."

"Thanks," Tony gave her a weak smile before he fixed his glance on his partner again.

"I really hope this works out for him," Ashley said as she was about to leave the room. "You deserve it, Tony."

He turned to look at her, but only saw the door close behind her, so he just sighed and leaned back in the chair, his eyes resting on Jethro's body, just to make sure that everything was still alright – or as alright as anything could be lately.

.

Ashley had been right. Nothing had happened in the following three or four hours and slowly but steadily, Tony felt slightly restless. It was worse than any torture he had had to endure in his life; just waiting and waiting and waiting for something, anything, to happen. He had no idea what he had to expect and that was the worst part of it all. He just didn't know whether Gibbs would wake up or just stay like that. He didn't know if his earlier movement had been exceptional or the beginning of something new – of something wonderful. He just didn't know and it was slowly driving him crazy with every minute that ticked away.

His gut had started to churn again and he knew that time was running out once again. He knew that there was nothing he could do but still, he felt like there had to be something that would speed up things. He had held the older man's hand, had stroked his hair affectionately and had watched out for any difference. But there was nothing and it didn't seem like anything that Tony was doing made any difference. Sighing and stifling a yawn, Tony leaned back into the chair, closing his eyes for a moment. He was tired beyond believe all of a sudden and he felt like he hadn't slept in weeks. As he came to think about it, he realized that he hadn't really. He had taken naps here and there, but he hadn't let himself sink into sleep properly since Jethro had been admitted to the hospital. He hadn't dared and even knew why. He was too afraid to miss anything, was too afraid that by letting himself sleep, he'd somehow betray Jethro. He knew that it wasn't logical, knew that it was nonsense, but he just couldn't help himself. He wouldn't probably sleep for real until Jethro was back again - or gone. Either way, it was impossible for Tony to relax enough right now. It felt wrong to think about the latter possibility, though, so Tony forced his eyes open again, craned his neck and gently took Jethro's hand again.

"Hey," he softly said into the silence, feeling slightly stupid as always when he talked to him like that. "I don't know if you can hear me or anything, Jethro, but I'm here. I'll always be here and I'll be waiting. Maybe not as patiently as I should, but you know me, patience is not really my strong suit. But who am I talking to, huh? You're even more impatient than I am. If you were in my place, you'd already have changed doctors at least four times, telling them to do something, right? God, I wish we could actually change places, you know. You'd be handling all of this so much better than I am. I know you hate waiting just as much as I do, but you'd have found yourself something to occupy yourself with. Not like me, who's just staring at you for like twenty-four hours a day, rambling to you about whatever. You know that one movie in which Sandra Bullock falls in love with that guy who falls into a coma? She has never spoken to him before and he's like the opposite of what she has expected, but she still stays there, waiting for him to wake up. Of course, in the end, she falls in love with his brother and the movie is all sorts of cheesy, but still… you know, she just patiently waited for him to wake up, no matter what. I wish I could be like that. But clearly… I'm failing. I'm failing at everything lately. Can you believe I shouted at Abby earlier? No wonder you had to do something to stop me. Thanks for that by the way, at least you shut me up that way. Moving your finger and all, it was more effective like any head slap. Maybe we should stick to that? I think my head would concur. But my head's not really what is important here, is it?"

Tony trailed off now, squeezing Jethro's hand again. He didn't know why he kept on talking to him. He wasn't entirely convinced that the older man could actually hear him and he had no idea what he hoped to achieve with talking anyway. Maybe it was just his defense mechanism whenever things got too bad. It had helped him cope with work and cruel murders over the years after all and perhaps he needed it to wind down. It didn't really matter anyway, it wasn't like Gibbs would put an end to his rambling with a head slap or - like in those last three years whenever they were alone - with a kiss.

With a sinking sensation in his gut, Tony realized that he didn't even know when he had last kissed him. Couldn't remember what the guy had smelled like that day or where he had last felt those surprisingly soft lips on his. He simply couldn't remember.

He sighed again, suppressing the urge to hit himself for not treasuring every single moment with the other guy. Tearing himself apart wouldn't help. He needed to be alert in case something about Jethro changed. He needed to watch him, needed to make sure that he was still comfortable despite the lack of sedation. So Tony rubbed a hand over his face and let out another sigh before he trained his eyes on the guy in front of him, willing him to move again.

.

"You know," Tony picked up his speech a couple of hours later as if no time had passed since then and now. "You should have really watched that flick with Sandra Bullock. _While you were sleeping_. You'd have complained about the discontinuity of it and the unlikelihood of Peter Gallagher just waking up from his coma with no real troubles and all, but it is exactly that kind of movie that would have made you all grumbly with me because I made you watch it. And I love it when you get like that because then I know that you care enough about me to watch it anyways, you know, just because I wanted you to. I know people think I'm crazy for putting up with you and I guess that goes the other way around, too, but I honestly don't think that there has ever been one single moment that I've regretted that one day that started it all, you know."

He trailed off, scrubbing a hand over his face again, making sure that the tears would not fall this time. He didn't want Gibbs to see him crying when he finally opened his eyes. He wanted him to see his determination to make it all alright again, wanted him to see how proud he was of him that he had made it this far.

"You think blackmail would work with you?" Tony finally started over again, not able to stand the silence in the room any longer. "You know like… I'd say if you wake up now, I'll never ever make you watch a movie with me again. But that won't work, will it? You were never great with deals. So, I guess, you have to wake up on your own account, huh? So, come on, please."

He stared at Jethro for a long while after that, taking in the pale face and the sunken expression on his face. It didn't bother him as much as it used to, but he still ached to see that half-smile on the other man's face, ached to see that famous Gibbs-glare and above all, he desperately wanted those blue eyes to look at him again, wanted to lose himself in them again one more time. Just as that thought had formed in Tony's mind, there was a slight change in the other man's expression.

Tony didn't know what it was exactly, but he was sure that there was something there. He continued to stare at him for a few moments longer and then he saw it again. The fine lines on his forehead had deepened ever so slightly for a second, just like every time he'd be immersed in his thoughts, and Tony felt his heart pick up pace as he leaned closer towards him, not daring to blink in case he'd miss something.

"Gibbs?" he asked softly, his nose mere inches away Jethro's face. "Can you hear me? Come on, it's me, Tony."

There was no reaction this time, but Tony wouldn't give up that easily, not when Gibbs had moved _twice_ in one day. That had to mean something, he was sure about that.

"Jethro?" he tried again, even softer this time. "Just open your eyes. I know you can do it."

Again, Gibbs' forehead wrinkled ever so slightly, causing Tony's stomach to turn in excitement. He kept on watching Jethro, silently cheering him on and then, and the younger man had no idea if it had been two minutes or two hours, Jethro's eyelids started to flutter for a moment or two. Tony felt a smile spread on his lips and felt tears stream down his cheeks despite his efforts to stop them, but he couldn't bring himself to blink them away, as he was too afraid that he would miss everything.

"Boss?" he asked now.

His eyelids continued to flutter for another second or so and then they slowly opened, causing Tony to suck in a breath. His heart missed a beat or two before it continued to beat in its erratic rhythm and his pulse was so loud in his ears that he wasn't entirely sure he could still hear the beeping of the heart monitor. But all of that didn't matter, nothing else mattered and would ever matter again because Jethro was looking at him through bright and unfocused eyes. They weren't settling on anything just yet, but Tony didn't care. He was able to see those icy blue and yet warm eyes again, was able to look into those eyes that had always managed to convey any message that Gibbs wanted to send.

Right at that moment, Tony was simply happy. Simply happy that he had made the right decision for once, happy that he hadn't listened to anybody but his own heart. He could look into those eyes again and that was all he ever wanted – and it didn't matter that they were unfocused right now, that there was no sense of comprehension in them. It didn't matter that they were missing that specific spark and it didn't matter that they seemed to be oddly cold and dead. It just didn't matter.

Except it did.

* * *

_A/N: In case anybody is wondering about the slow pace of this, things will pick up in the other parts, I promise. I'd love to hear your thoughts, though! :)_


	6. Part I Waiting: Comprehension

_A/N: Thanks for your reviews guys!_

* * *

Chapter Six: _Comprehension_

Like in trance, Tony finally reached out to press the panic button to alert the nurses and doctors that Jethro was awake – or had at least opened his eyes because Tony wasn't entirely sure the guy was actually awake at the moment. This wasn't a movie after all. Tony knew that Jethro wasn't likely to just get up and act like nothing had ever happened. He knew all of this, but that didn't stop him from being strangely disappointed. He was still staring into Jethro's eyes that didn't show any kind of recognition at all. Tony softly squeezed the older man's hand again, waiting for any kind of reaction from him, but nothing came. Jethro's blue eyes were still darting around the room, never really settling on anything, and most definitely not on Tony. But before Tony could start to thoroughly freak out about it, the door behind him opened and Nurse Ashley and Dr. Martin entered the room.

"His eyes are open," Tony stated the obvious and saw the slightest of a smile appear on the nurse's face, while the doctor's expression was just as unreadable as it had always been.

Tony was still squeezing Jethro's hand when Dr. Martin came to a stop next to him, clearly telling him that he was supposed to step aside, so that he could examine his patient, but suddenly Tony felt unable to let go of Jethro. What if this was the last time he'd open his eyes? What if all of this was just the last thing Jethro would ever do? He couldn't just let go, could he?

"Tony," Ashley's gentle voice cut through his thoughts like a knife. "You can't stay in here right now."

"But I have to," Tony replied with more determination than he felt right now. "I can't leave him alone right now."

"Yes, you can, Tony," Ashley coaxed and Tony felt himself move away from the bed despite himself. "Just wait outside, okay? Abby and Dr. Mallard are waiting right outside. We'll give you an update as soon as we can, okay?"

"Okay," Tony nodded and with one last glance at Jethro, he closed the door behind him, leaning against it from the outside a second later.

"Anthony?" Ducky was by his side in an instant. "What happened? Is everything alright?"

Tony blinked a couple of times, trying to process everything, trying to process anything at all before he subtly shook his head, as if it would help him to get out of his headspace, and spoke.

"What are you doing here?"

"Dear Abigail called me a few hours ago that Jethro had moved. I have been here ever since. You don't expect us to leave you when there has finally been some progress, do you?"

Tony stared at him for a moment before he realized that he had to accept that he wasn't the only one hurting and hoping here. He had already known that, but he was too used to master everything alone that even after over a decade with this team, he still sometimes forgot that they were always there no matter what. So, he finally shook his head and let himself be guided to the chairs by Ducky.

"So, what happened?" Abby asked after she had engaged him in a tight hug that eased some of the tension in his body.

"He opened his eyes," Tony reported dutifully and was able to see Abby take a deep breath as if she was about to start squealing, but there must have been something in his expression that made her stop dead in her tracks.

"But?" she pushed on.

"I don't think he's really awake. His eyes were so… I don't know, not like his, you know? They never came to a rest and stuff," Tony stopped for a moment before he added in a whisper. "Scared me."

"That is okay, Anthony," Ducky spoke again. "It is not unusual in cases such as Jethro's. He has just woken up, no need to worry just yet."

"No need to worry?" Tony asked incredulously, wondering how he could not worry about that when all he had been doing was worrying for weeks now.

"That's not what he meant, Tony," Abby hurried to explain, placing a comforting hand on Tony's forearm. "I'm sure he'll wake up fully very soon, Tony. Really soon, okay?"

"Yeah," Tony replied dumbly, fixing his eyes on his shoes, unable to look at Abby any longer.

He had no idea why he was feeling so devastated all of a sudden. He had been happy mere minutes ago when Jethro had first opened his eyes, but now he felt hope slip like water through his fingers. What if the older man would stay like that forever? What if those eyes would forever be bright and unfocused and dead? And would living like that really be better than having let him die?

"Hey Tony, shhh, calm down," Abby's gentle voice interrupted his thoughts and only now did he realize that he had trouble breathing regularly.

He focused on getting air in and out his lungs and after a moment or two, he felt himself relax again somewhat as he realized that this wouldn't help. He couldn't afford freaking out now. He simply couldn't because Jethro in there needed him and even if the other man didn't know that, Tony did and that was enough for the time being.

.

They had to wait for almost a full hour before Dr. Martin came out the room and looked at them with a soft smile on his lips and Tony felt his gut churn but in the somewhat good way this time because the doctor had never given him as much as a smile before.

"It seems like," he started once he had the full attention from them. "Agent Gibbs is in a minimally conscious state at the moment. He may not be responsive at the moment, but his reflexes are alright and he startles at loud sounds. He's not quite here yet, but this is a huge improvement, I don't have to tell you that. We have to be patient, though. Just because he's minimally aware of his surroundings doesn't meant that he will improve just as fast from now on. He may never get out of this stage. It seems, however, that things are indeed starting to look up at the moment. But I can't make any promises. We'll have to wait and see."

"What can we do to help him?" Abby asked, squeezing Tony's forearm almost painfully in an attempt to help him out of his headspace.

Tony was still staring at the doc in wonder. He had understood all of what he had been telling them, but he was still unable to bury the uneasy feeling in his gut. He simply couldn't comprehend his own feelings. Finally the doctor was slightly positive about the outcome and suddenly Tony wasn't able to believe him anymore? He had believed the doctor when he had told him that it was likely that Jethro would never wake up, had believed him when he had told him that he was only prolonging Gibbs' misery. So why was it so hard to believe now that Jethro was indeed doing better? When Tony had seen with his own eyes that Jethro had moved, had opened his eyes? Why was this so hard? All of it somehow seemed so unreal all of a sudden. Tony blinked a couple of times, concentrating on Abby' warm hand on his skin because, well, this was the one thing that was real right at that moment.

"There are multiple things you can try," Dr. Martin answered Abby's question now, "like using touch and sounds to reach him. Same goes for stimuli like smell and taste and even visuals. Talk to him, it doesn't matter about what. Happy memories or about your life in general, it doesn't matter."

"Okay," Tony saw Abby nod next to him and he did the same, knowing that it was expected of him.

"You can go back in there," the doctor continued, looking at him. "We have put him back under a mild sedation for the time being, so that we're able to make sure he's still comfortable, but he might wake up again soon. I'm sure he'd want you there when he does."

Again, Tony nodded and then the doctor was gone, leaving Tony sitting there, still feeling oddly devastated.

"Are you okay, Anthony?" Ducky asked him as he sat down next to him.

"Yeah," he answered before he shook his head. "No. I don't know."

"This has been quite a step for Jethro. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah," Tony nodded again. "I know, I know. But… I mean… what if…" he trailed off again, fixing his shoes with a glare of frustration.

"What if he won't make it out of this stage?" Ducky finished his thought.

"Yeah."

"You mustn't think like that, Anthony. Only a week ago, there was next to hope for our dear Jethro and look what he has achieved now. He has opened his eyes and seems to be doing quite well considering the circumstances. He is quite capable of fighting his way out of this and you of all people should know that. Don't think about the what-if, my dear boy. Think about what might lie ahead. He might actually make it. You have to concentrate on the good news here, even if it is only for Jethro's sake. Can you do that?"

Tony kept on staring at his shoes for a moment or two to let Ducky's words sink in before he felt himself nod. He knew Ducky was right. He had to forget the dead look in Jethro's eyes, had to forget his own damn insecurity about it all and be as positive as he could manage. He had a task now. Try and be happy – and if he couldn't do that, at least he could pretend to be happy. He was sure he was able to do that; he had years of practice to show after all. So, he would just go back in there, talk to Jethro and hold his hand until he would wake up again.

Tony knew he could do that, even if it would tear him apart.

So, he took a deep breath before he stood up, nodded at both Abby and Ducky and went back into Jethro's room.

.

Four days had passed since Jethro had first moved and slowly but steadily, Tony felt his anxiety get the better of him. The older man had woken up a quite a few times, but there seemed to be no change at all. Every time, his eyes had darted around, never settling on anything, let alone Tony and no matter how much Tony had talked to him, had tried to be heard, it didn't seem like it had helped one bit. The only thing that had changed was that Jethro was moving more than ever before; sometimes it was his hands that balled themselves into fists for a moment before they relaxed again and sometimes it was his head that turned from side to side as far as the ventilator allowed. But those movements were never coordinated, nor seemed to happen with Jethro's consent.

Tony knew that it was an improvement, the doctors had told him that much, but it didn't stop him from feeling more miserable with every hour that passed. It was like Jethro was right there with him and yet so far away. Sometimes it seemed like that there was no fight left in the mostly lifeless man, but Tony wasn't quite sure whether or not he wasn't only transferring his own feelings onto Jethro. He didn't think it mattered much anyway.

The rest of the team had dropped by as much as they could, had talked to him, had tried to soothe Tony, but little did it help. If anything, they had just made it all worse and Tony didn't even have a clue why. But Tony wouldn't let his feelings stand in the way of anything, so he had put on the mask of the ever-positive class clown and had done anything possible not to indulge in his own insecurity and devastation and had focused on Jethro instead.

.

It was late in the afternoon of day eight and Tony was just reading the sports section of the newspaper to Jethro when McGee quietly opened the door behind him and sat down next to him.

"Look, Gibbs," Tony commented cheerfully. "Guess who's here. McGee. You should really tell him to go out into the sun more often. He looks like he's spent the summer in Canada again."

Tim just snorted as he placed a doughnut in Tony's hand.

"Abby insisted that I have to tell you that you have to eat something."

"I'm not really hungry right now, but thanks," Tony replied, placing the doughnut and the newspaper on the nightstand. "So, what's news at the office?"

"Nothing much. Ziva and I are finally done with all the cold cases and have been reassigned to another team."

"Balboa's?" Tony asked, realizing just now that he had paid no attention to the fact that his team was two members short at the moment and therefore not able to go out into the field.

"Yeah. Agent Smith is going to be on paternity leave as of Monday and it doesn't really matter if there's a three or four man team, does it?"

"Guess not," Tony replied slowly, fixing his glance on Jethro's face because the guy had just opened his eyes again and had turned his head into their direction, but he had done that before, it didn't mean that he was actually listening.

"It's only temporary," McGee continued and Tony felt his eyes on him. "We'll just stay with Balboa until you're back."

Tony gave a start at that but recovered quickly enough as he averted his eyes from Jethro to fix McGee with a mild glare instead.

"Wouldn't count on that, McGee," he said sharper than he had intended, causing Tim to flinch away from him ever so slightly.

"I know it won't happen like tomorrow, Tony. But you will be coming back, won't you?"

"I don't know McGee," Tony snapped, raising his voice a bit. "It's not like I can make any plans at the moment, can I? I don't give a damn about work at the moment in case you haven't noticed. I can't even tell you what I'll be doing in two hours because all hell might have broken loose by then. I can't tell you I'll be back at work in another three weeks because I can't be planning on Jethro to wake up in three days. I can't do that, so would you please back off. I just don't know."

He slumped back in his chair, as if all his momentary thunder had suddenly left him, and averted his gaze from McGee's horrified face.

"Sorry, I…" he stuttered. "I didn't mean it like that. Tony, we all know how hard this is, okay? I just wanted to tell you that we'll be glad once you're back at the office. We miss you there. That's all I wanted to tell you, nothing more and nothing less."

Tony nodded mutely, trying to get himself under control again. He knew that McGee hadn't meant to upset him, but it hadn't slipped Tony's attention that the younger man hadn't mentioned anything about Gibbs coming back. He knew that this was like the unlikeliest thing in the world at the moment, but it still stung. Taking a deep breath, he tried to whisk off his own uneasy feeling and then turned towards McGee, who looked, if possible, even paler than before.

"I know, I know. Shouldn't have shouted at you."

"It's okay," McGee reassured him. "You're under a lot of pressure right now and I have no clue what it must feel like. Didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset, McGoo," Tony replied maybe a tad too cheerfully, but McGee seemed to have chosen to ignore the slightly forced tone of voice because he gave him a tentative smile. "But you're right. One day I'll be back at work and will lumber you with as many impossible tasks as I can think of."

Tim let out a laugh, then simply nodded and averted his gaze from him. Tony did the same, desperately trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. It wasn't like he had given going back to work that much thought, but suddenly it seemed too much to even consider it. Would he really go back when Jethro's condition would not improve? Would he really be able to get into boss-mode when the one who actually was the boss was still not even able to move or talk? It felt like the impossible to Tony right at that moment and he couldn't imagine that it would ever change.

Once again taking a deep breath, he stored the uncomfortable thought away for now. He would think about it soon enough, in the small hours of the morning when everything always seemed so much worse than during the day. But he wouldn't let McGee, and Jethro for that matter, see his insecurity, his desolation. Ducky had told him to be positive, so he would act as positive as possible. And that was that.

They remained silent for a long while before McGee, his gaze still fixed on Jethro, started to talk again.

"Does he often look at you like that?"

Tony, who had stared at his feet for the better part of the last minutes, looked up at McGee and nodded.

"He does it all the time. But he doesn't actually look at me or you or at anything. See his eyes? They never settle on anything. While it looks like he's actually watching you, he doesn't. Not really."

"Yeah, I know that," McGee said, but still continued to stare at Gibbs. "I've seen that before. But, Tony, does it always look like this?"

Tony felt something in his stomach turn at the mere thought of it, but tried to suppress the slightly tingly feeling as he slowly averted his glance from the younger man. He was sure that the guy was imagining it anyway, he hadn't seen Jethro as much as Tony had after all, hadn't learned to read his movements as well as he had, so it probably didn't mean anything.

But as he turned towards Jethro, he sucked in a breath. Once again, the blue eyes were looking right back at him, but this time they didn't move around, didn't seem to be all that dead anymore.

McGee had been right – Gibbs was looking at him.

"Gibbs?" Tony breathed out as he stood up slowly, never once breaking their eye contact.

Jethro didn't move, but his eyes had definitely held Tony's as he had approached him. Tony felt his pulse pick up pace. He wasn't imagining this, was he? Gibbs really was looking at him, he was sure about it. He heard McGee say something, but wasn't able to actually understand what he had just tried to tell him. He reached for Jethro's hand now and squeezed it softly and with a start realized that the older man's eyes had darted towards his own hand for a second before they settled on Tony's face again.

"Gibbs?" Tony asked again, even more quietly than before as if not to scare those blue eyes away from him. "Can you hear me?"

It took a few moments, with Tony holding his breath and praying to any god that would listen that he wasn't dreaming all of this, before Gibbs blinked once and twice and three times. And Tony was just about to repeat his question and had already opened his mouth to do so when the unthinkable happened, turning Tony's world upside down once again but this time in the wonderfully good direction.

Because slowly and haltingly Gibbs nodded once.

* * *

_A/N: So that's it for Part I. Part II is in the works at the moment and I hope I'll be able to update just as quickly as I have been. Hope you liked it so far. Reviews would be rad, too._


	7. Part II Recovering: Disruption

_A/N: As always, a huge thank you for all your reviews and favorites and alerts!_

* * *

_**Part II Recovering**_

Chapter One:_ Disruption_

Three weeks had passed since Gibbs had first looked at Tony again, had first shown signs of understanding what was going on around him, had first nodded. It wasn't like Tony had expected any miracles, he knew that Gibbs was not Superman after all, but he hadn't thought that it would be that slow, either. He knew that he wasn't supposed to think like that. He should have been happy that Gibbs slowly seemed to come back to the world, to his surroundings, to him. And yet, there was something gnawing away at Tony and he couldn't even put a finger on what it was exactly.

There were the good days when Gibbs was somewhat alert and was reacting to loud sounds and things around him and sometimes even seemed to answer with a slight nod with his head, but there were also the really bad ones when he barely ever woke up or if he did, was not looking at anything or anyone. Ducky had explained to Tony that this was perfectly normal. Inconsistency was even expected in such cases and Tony shouldn't be alarmed when Gibbs seemed to be awake and functioning one day but not the next. The ME had urged the younger man to learn to tolerate those bad days as best as he could because he wasn't helping anyone with getting angry or impatient.

Tony knew that Ducky was right, but little did it help to keep his emotions in check. He was growing impatient, he was angry at the world and at himself at times, just to be devastated and hopeless the next second. He had to get himself under control before he would lash out at some innocent bystander. He had realized that long ago, but somehow he didn't handle it really well. As of now, Ducky, McGee and Palmer had been the victims of one of Tony's unjustified outbursts and even though Tony had immediately apologized afterwards, he knew that it wasn't right. It wasn't their fault that Jethro was still fighting to hold on; it wasn't their fault that Tony felt so helpless and useless.

.

It took another two weeks, but then finally, the ventilator that had helped Gibbs breathe wasn't necessary anymore. But if Tony had thought it would make things easier, would make it easier to talk to him, would make it easier for the older man to answer, he saw himself proven wrong. In the first few nights, Jethro had been restless, sometimes even agitated and as much Tony had wanted to help him, he hadn't been able to. Because Jethro couldn't tell him what exactly was wrong or what was going on in his mind, Tony couldn't react to it. He had tried to soothe him with touches, with words, with just looking at him, but nothing seemed to help. Jethro remained vaguely disorientated and even though he was breathing on his own now, he wasn't able to do much of anything else. Tony just didn't know what to do and the few things he had actually tried were just as useless as he was starting to feel like. However, it didn't stop him from wanting to help, even though it got more frustrating with every day that passed with no change.

And with every day that went by, Tony felt more lost. He wanted to help him and had done whatever the doctors had suggested, but nothing seemed to do the trick and it slowly tore him apart. All he really wanted to do was to climb into bed with the other man, hold him tightly in his arms and whisper nonsense things into his ear to calm him down. And yet it was the only thing he simply couldn't do and he didn't even know why. But whenever Tony just touched as much as Gibbs' hand, the older man would flinch away from him, a frown building on his face. The first few times that it had happened, Tony thought that the guy was still confused, but his behavior hadn't changed. And it wouldn't have been that bad if Jethro's wasn't willing to let anyone touch him, but he didn't seem to be reserved when it came to Ducky's soft pats on his shoulder or Abby's hand in his own.

And with every time that Jethro winced at Tony's touch, a little part in Tony died. He felt like crying and even though, he knew that it wasn't Gibbs' fault, he couldn't help but feel that way. Why was it so hard for him to let him touch him? Hadn't Tony deserved that much? He had been by his side almost twenty-four hours a day, had prayed to gods he didn't even believe in that he would be alright again, had done everything in his power to make him feel more comfortable, but it all didn't seem to be enough. Didn't seem to be enough for one single touch, for one single skin contact and it was slowly eating Tony up alive.

.

It was another three weeks before Jethro was discharged from the ICU and moved to the Specialty Hospital of Washington for rehabilitation. Even though he was stable now, things weren't exactly looking up as far as Tony could assess. He knew that it was nonsense, there had been as much progress as could be expected and somewhere deep inside of him, he did know that, too, and yet he felt more desperate than ever. He wouldn't listen to Ducky anymore when he'd tell him that this was all very good and progressing really well. He simply couldn't see it. Gibbs still couldn't talk, would have to learn it from scratch again; he still couldn't move more than his head and sometimes a finger when he wanted and worst of it all, he didn't seem to remember anything or anyone. It was hard to tell because sometimes, when he was fully lucid, he would look at Tony with a speculative look on his face, a brow furrowed as if he was concentrating hard. But the moment would pass as quickly as it had started, leaving Tony even emptier inside.

All of this wasn't unusual for patients who had suffered from a severe traumatic brain injury, as Ducky had tried to tell him. And Tony _knew_ that, too, but it didn't help the ache in his heart whenever Gibbs was looking at him with a blank expression.

It didn't stop Tony from staying by his side through it all, though. He was still sitting next to his partner's bed night and day, was still there when he woke up and when he fell asleep. He was still there when the doctors and therapists came and he was still there whenever Gibbs would wake up in the middle of the night, his eyes darting all around the room, his shirt clinging to his body from sweat and screaming incoherently from the impact of what had to be terrible nightmares. And every time, Tony just wanted to reach out and touch him to calm him down, but whenever he had tried that, Gibbs had flinched away so violently that even Tony had to realize that it was no use touching the guy when he was like that.

While all doctors and friends claimed that Jethro was doing so well considering the circumstances, there weren't any guarantees. Gibbs could stay like that forever, the speech therapy could not work, his mobility and self care skills could never come back and he might never be able to even eat without help again. He could forever stay in his own little world, could forever be a prisoner of his own thoughts and could forever be lost for Tony.

But even if he wouldn't improve, even if things would forever stay like this, Tony knew that he wouldn't leave his side, even if Gibbs couldn't remember him, couldn't remember them. He had promised the older man that he would be there no matter what and he wasn't about to break his promise. Gibbs might not be fully there, but Tony was and it would have to be enough for both of them.

.

Today was one of the good days. Gibbs had been awake on and off, but each time he seemed actually awake, had looked at Tony with the same confusion on his face as always, but Tony was used to it by now. It wasn't exactly a special day, but it did mark the fifth good day for Gibbs in a row and that was definitely a first. The doctors had told him that it would keep on going to improve and that Tony was supposed to talk as much to Gibbs as possible. He had done that – a lot. If there was one thing he was good at after all, it was talking. At times, it had seemed like Gibbs had actually listened and it helped Tony to realize that maybe all his nervous ramblings weren't for nothing.

Tony was just telling him about the famous car chase scene in _Bullitt_ when the door to Jethro's room opened and none other than the director of NCIS himself stuck his head in at the door.

"Agent DiNozzo," he said rather softly. "Do you have a minute?"

"Uh, sure," Tony replied, casting a quick glance at Gibbs who had turned his head towards his new visitor. "I'll be right back, Jethro. Don't think I'm done with _Bullitt_ just yet. You have to hear about the bullshit-controversy, I'm telling you. I won't be long."

With that and one last look at Gibbs, Tony stood up and followed Vance out the room. They walked down the hallway in silence and still hadn't spoken a word when they stepped out of the hospital and sat down on a nearby bench.

"With all due respect, as much as I enjoy a little walk, Director," Tony finally started to talk, "I really don't want to stay away for too long right now."

"I understand that, DiNozzo," Vance replied, giving him a small smile. "I have to talk to you about something and I wasn't sure if it would be the best idea to discuss this in front of Gibbs."

"Okay," Tony said. "So, what's up?"

"As Miss Scuito has been so kind to update me on Gibbs' condition on the last weeks, I understand that he is doing better."

"Yeah," Tony just answered, not keen on elaborating.

"I also understand that you want to be there for him as much as you can. And I have done my best to take the work load off you."

"Appreciate that," Tony said, inclining his head.

"Matter of course, DiNozzo," Vance continued gruffly. "However, there is only so much I can do. Your vacation time is up and you maxed your leave of absence."

Tony stared at him for a moment before the reality of what Vance was trying to tell him slowly sunk in. He felt his gut churning at the mere thought of going back to work. He couldn't do that, not when things were still in limbo like that.

"I can't go back to work, Director," he finally answered quietly but firmly.

"I don't think you have a choice, DiNozzo. Two more weeks is the best I can do, but after that I'd be forced to fire you due to absence from work without permission."

"Then fire me," Tony pressed out, his hands balling into fists. "I won't go back in two weeks."

"DiNozzo," Vance replied sharply. "You can't just do that. As much as I hate to admit it, next to Gibbs, you're the best agent our agency has to offer."

"Bringing out the big guns won't help," the younger man answered determinedly and yet couldn't help but feel the sudden rush of pride to his head at the praise.

"Maybe not. But one of you two has to earn some money, DiNozzo, and at this moment you're the only one that can do that. There's bills to pay, medical bills nonetheless."

"You don't understand," Tony started, trying to keep his voice low and even and failing miserably. "I can't go back to work. Not like this. Would you just go back to normal if this was your wife in there? Would you?"

Obviously taken aback by Tony's outburst, Vance leaned away from him ever so slightly and studied his features for a moment before he gave a slight nod.

"I would because I have kids to take care of; I have kids to give a future to. You might not have children, Tony, but you do have a future. You and Gibbs both have. In the long run, you'd regret the decision, I'm sure about that."

"Director," Tony started, but was cut off.

"Just think about it long and hard. You have to go back at some point. Maybe not to NCIS, but you will have to go back to your life. I know it won't be easy, but I trust you to know that the agency and I have your back on this. I can put you and Agents David and McGee on cold cases, so that you're guaranteed to be gone from the Navy Yard at five o'clock every day. This way you'd be able to leave at any given moment if Gibbs requires your help. I can guarantee you that, other employees are not likely to do that. So just think about what I said before you make any rash decisions."

With that, Vance stood up and reached out his hand, which Tony took and shook after a moment of contemplation. The director nodded curtly and then turned to leave, but stopped dead in his tracks a moment later, a slight smirk on his face.

"One question, though, DiNozzo. What in the world is the BS-controversy?"

Tony couldn't help letting out a bark of a laugh at that before he continued, "_Bullitt_ was the first major film that used the word bullshit. They had already edited it out of the final cut but Steve McQueen and Peter Yates, the director, insisted that it had to stay in. They won in the end."

"Good to know," Vance just said and with that he was gone, leaving Tony sitting there, staring at nothing in particular and trying to get his head around everything the director had just said.

.

It was Ziva that found him in the exact same spot almost an hour later on her way to one of her regular visit to Gibbs'.

"Tony?" she asked as she had already sat down next to him, startling him out of his thoughts. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," Tony nodded, trying to pull himself away from his thoughts. "Yeah, everything's alright."

"Then why are you sitting here and not in Gibbs' room?"

"Vance just stopped by," he started to explain, his voice barely above a whisper. "Told me to go back to work, like it is the easiest thing in the world."

"You do not want to come back?" Ziva asked equally quiet.

"No. I mean, I don't know. I can't just go back there, can I? I mean what if something happens with Gibbs and I'm not there to help him? What if he thinks I forgot about him?"

"He will not think that," she replied with so much determination that Tony finally turned to look at her. "Just because you go back to work does not mean you have forgotten about him or given up on him. I am sure he knows that."

"How can you?" Tony asked quietly, once again trying to remain calm, but his fingers were already curling his hands into fists again. "How can you be sure when he doesn't talk? Doesn't move? What makes you think he knows who we are, who I am? Huh, how do you know?"

"I do not, Tony," Ziva replied and her voice was still even and controlled. "But I know Gibbs. And the Gibbs that I know would want you to go back because he always wants what is best for us. You simply cannot keep on living like that Tony. I know you want to be here and we all understand that, but have you taken a look into the mirror recently? You are not yourself anymore. You are skinny and in a desperate need of a haircut. I know it all does not seem important to you at the moment, but it all makes you less yourself. Maybe going back to work will help you regain some of your… Tony-ness. Gibbs will not think less of you for doing that and we will not, either."

"It's not that simple, Ziva. What if something really bad happens? What if he falls back into unconsciousness and I won't be there? What if he starts to talk again or grab something or whatever and I won't be there? How could I ever forgive myself?"

"I do not say it cannot happen. But listen, Tony. Right now you are not helping anybody. You are not helping Gibbs with hovering over him twenty-four hours a day. You are not helping us because you are not at work or anywhere. And above all you are not helping yourself. I have watched you tear yourself apart for too long. I know that you are hurting even if you will not let it show. I know you are desperate and I know you just want things to go back to normal. We all do. But maybe a bit of distance from the hospital will help you."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Tony cried out and finally sprang up from the bench, pacing back and forth. "You have no fucking clue what it is like. Do you have any idea what it feels like watching him look at you and he still doesn't know who you are? You don't know what it feels like trying to calm him down after a nightmare and he doesn't even let you touch him. He doesn't let me touch him, Ziva. We've been together for over three years, Ziva, and he won't let me touch him. Do you have any idea what that does to me? I'm so tired of it all, I'm just so tired of being a fighter. I just can't do it anymore."

He stopped pacing, burying his head in his hands. Tears had started rolling down his cheeks and he couldn't do anything to stop them. He hadn't cried since Ducky had told him to stay positive. That had been weeks ago. But he couldn't do that anymore. He couldn't pretend anymore. He just didn't seem to be able to stop the tears from coming, the sobs from escaping his mouth. He was still crying when Ziva approached him and engaged him a hug. He had no idea how long they had been standing there until he was able to stop his shoulders from shaking, until the last of his tears had dried. Through it all, Ziva had never uttered a single word, hadn't done anything but gently holding on to him.

"I'm sorry," he finally mumbled as he retreated and scrubbed a hand over his face to get rid of the remaining tears.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she replied and unexpectedly took his hand in hers. "I am here to help and all I am asking is to let me, let us help you. You do not have to be strong for us, okay? We do not need the class clown or any superhero of your comics, Tony. We want to help _you_."

"Okay," Tony nodded, feeling as if all the energy had left him for the moment. "Okay."

For a moment, Tony looked at Ziva and realized that he had never been so glad to see her, not even when they had saved her from Somalia. He suddenly remembered the worst day of his life and how she had not contradicted him when he had told her that he wouldn't pull Gibbs off life support. He remembered how she had just been there and had held him just like she had hugged him mere minutes ago.

"Thank you," he finally said, looking her straight in the eyes, hoping that it was somehow enough.

Ziva just gave him a small smile and nodded.

"It is okay," she just said and squeezed his hand for a moment or two. "Let's get back inside, yes? I am sure Gibbs will still be there despite the fact that you were not in there with him for the last hour."

Despite himself, Tony let out a wobbly laugh and followed her lead.

"Nice try," he said and was slightly surprised that his voice suddenly didn't sound all that shaky anymore. "But I won't go back to work, Ziva. You will thank me for it, too. You'd be on cold cases again."

Ziva looked at him for a short moment before she simply shook her head. "I would take you over cold cases any time, Tony."


	8. Part II Recovering: Normalization

_A/N: I'm not sure you really did like that last chapter, as there was not that much feedback this time, but who am I to complain ;) You guys are awesome to even take the time to read this! Thanks!_

* * *

Chapter Two: _Normalization_

Tony took a deep breath before he entered Gibbs' house – their house – for the first time since the older man had been admitted to the hospital. He hadn't dared to come back here in fear of what it might do to his already battered state of mind. He still didn't want to go in there for too many reasons, but he had to. He had to because he needed a shower and fresh clothes before going back to the office. As much as he hated to admit it, Vance had been right. He needed to get back to work because he simply needed the money – they needed the money in the long run to get through this. Jethro's insurance covered most of his stay at the hospital, but it didn't cover much of anything else and Tony knew that if Gibbs would ever be well enough to go home, they'd need stuff there, too. So, grudgingly, he had called Vance a couple of days ago and had told him he would go back to work, starting Monday. Abby, McGee and Ziva had expressed their joy about his decision, but Tony couldn't help but notice the slight hesitation in their eyes. He had no clue what had brought it up, but he guessed it had to do with them being back on cold cases or that they didn't like being ordered around by him.

He didn't care either way because he knew that his heart wasn't in it anyway. In fact, he hated going back to work and leaving Gibbs alone like that. Remorse had already made itself perceivable as he had left the sleeping guy earlier today in order to go home. He had tried to explain to him that it was necessary and it had seemed like Gibbs had been listening, too, but Tony couldn't be sure he actually had. It didn't make it easier, knowing that the older man might wonder where he was and why he wasn't at his side all of a sudden.

Brushing his insecurity aside for a moment, Tony finally entered the house, internally bracing himself for the familiar smell of wood and coffee and well, Gibbs that would hit him as soon as he'd set a foot in there. But as he slowly exhaled, he had to realize that it didn't smell like him at all anymore. It was like the other guy had never been there in the first place and Tony closed his eyes for a moment, trying to find his inner balance again. Ducky or Jackson or someone had obviously made sure that their plants had been watered regularly and by doing so had apparently made sure that the house stayed well-kept. And by ensuring that, they had apparently chased off Gibbs' smell from there.

It was weird being there. It had been Tony's home for almost two years now and yet without the other man in it, it didn't feel like that at all. His refuge whenever times were getting rough didn't seem like a refuge anymore. It felt empty and impersonal. And Tony suddenly felt lonely – indescribably lonely.

He subtly shook his head, then almost carefully climbed the stairs up towards the bathroom and stripped slowly and deliberately. He exhaled when the first stream of warm water touched his back. God, he had missed this shower. The water was relaxing on his strong, smooth skin. The longer the spray of water hit him, the more relaxed Tony seemed to become. The water pressure was just perfect, it was heavy but not really sharp, massaging his back and washing away the stresses of the previous weeks. Or it almost did. Because as soon as he had reached for the soap, Tony realized that there was only Jethro's usual one there. The generic one that didn't seem to have any flavor and yet Tony would forever associate it with Jethro's unique scent of exactly that soap, coffee and wood. Sighing, Tony hurried to wash up, unable to stay in there any longer all of a sudden. When he had dried off, he stepped into their bedroom and hurried to pick out a suit and boxer shorts, but stopped dead when his gaze reached Jethro's usual white undershirts. Without really thinking of what he was doing, he grabbed one of them and slipped in, inhaling the scent that was still clinging to it. At least one goddamn thing still smelled of his partner.

Quickly glancing at his watch, Tony realized that he was running late on his first day of work, so he hurried to get completely dressed. As he chanced a gaze into the mirror, he stopped short, though. The suit, that had once fit him like a glove, was now hanging rather loosely on him. When had he lost that much weight? He had rarely moved these last couple of weeks and he had eaten, hadn't he? He ran a hand through his hair and only realized now that Ziva had been right before. He actually was in a desperate need of a haircut. When had all of that happened without him even realizing? Of course, all of this, his appearance was rarely of importance right now, but he was Tony DiNozzo after all and he did care about stuff like that. But maybe that was it. He just didn't care anymore. He didn't care that his hair was much too long, he didn't care that his suit didn't fit anymore because there was no one who would scold him for it. Because the only one who would do exactly that didn't even remember what Tony had looked like four months ago. He simply didn't remember.

.

For what seemed like the hundredth time today, Tony steeled himself as the elevator doors to his floor opened. He could do this. This was just work, cold cases nonetheless. He'd just have sit through eight hours and then he could go back to Jethro. No big deal. He would tease Ziva and McGee and then bury himself in work because that was the stuff he was good at. He was the master of displacement after all. But as soon as he had as much as rounded the corner to his desk and had thrown his backpack next to it, he felt his heart pick up pace. He hadn't been prepared that it would be like that. Just – so normal. He had done it a million times before, had thrown the exact same backpack towards the same exact spot a million times and had sat down on his chair just as many times. It was oddly normal and yet everything was different. He squeezed his eyes shut to organize the thoughts in his mind before he quickly looked over towards Gibbs' abandoned desk. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he realized that nothing had changed. There were still pictures pinned to the walls, his computer was still standing on the same spot and Tony could just make out Jethro's glasses that were still lying where the older man had last placed them. It was like nothing had happened.

Deciding that now was not the time for a major freak-out, Tony averted his glance and concentrated on the computer screen in front of him. He had things to do here, had to check his emails, had to look at cold cases. He simply didn't have time to get wound up in thoughts about the past, in thoughts about Gibbs. So, he set to work – just like nothing had happened, just like nothing was out of the ordinary.

.

McGee and Ziva had arrived at some point, greeting him enthusiastically and Tony had tried to return the sentiment but he apparently hadn't managed to do it to their satisfaction. He caught McGee cast a glance at Ziva more than once whenever he thought Tony wasn't looking and even though Tony knew that it wasn't with malicious intent, he couldn't help but feel that way. He knew that they were probably just worrying about him but that didn't mean that he liked it. As the day went on, Tony felt himself get more paranoid by the second. Sometime around three o'clock in the afternoon, he finally had enough.

"McGee, what is it?"

"Sorry?" the younger man replied, averting his eyes from Ziva to look at Tony instead.

"What is it that you want to tell Ziva so desperately but can't because I'm sitting right here? Just spit it out. I'm sure I can take it whatever it is."

"Uh," McGee pressed out, his eyes darting back towards Ziva who had her gaze fixed on Tony, though, and didn't see him. "Nothing. It's just you're really quiet today. It kind of freaks me out."

"Well, I'm sorry, McGee, but I'm trying to work here. And in case you didn't know, I don't like cold cases all that much."

"I know," Tim just sighed and then turned away from Tony again to stare at his computer screen instead and Tony was just settling, too, when Ziva suddenly spoke up.

"Do not be mad at us," she said calmly. "We just worry, that is all. You do understand that, yes?"

"Yeah, Ziva," Tony replied barely above a whisper. "But there's nothing to worry about, okay? I'm fine. I'm here. I'm working. That is all everybody wanted. I'm not the one you should be worrying about right now."

"But you will come to us if there is something that… bothers you?" she pressed on, her eyes never leaving Tony's.

"Yeah," he just answered, knowing that it was the expected answer.

He knew that they meant well, but he didn't need their sympathy. He _was_ fine. It didn't matter that his heart missed a beat every time his glance reached Gibbs' empty desk. It didn't matter that every time he found something wrong about the cold case files, he was on the verge of calling out a "Hey Boss" to alert him of it. And it certainly didn't matter that every time he took a deep breath, Gibbs' smell reached his nostrils because he was wearing his goddamn shirt. All of that didn't matter because he was okay. He wasn't the one that was lying in a hospital bed with no clue what exactly was going on around him. He wasn't the one that was probably wondering where his partner had vanished to all of a sudden.

So, really, there wasn't anything worry about at all.

.

By Friday, however, Tony couldn't help but realize that work was hell.

And that it was heaven all the same.

He hated it there because he didn't like cold cases, didn't like the looks he was getting from the others. He hated the fact that he was leaving Gibbs alone for over eight hours. Hated the fact that he couldn't be there whenever something happened – not that there was anything. And yet, Tony couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved whenever he left the hospital in the mornings because for the next eight hours he would be able to concentrate on something different than Gibbs' health. Of course, he worried about it at work, too, but it was rather a constant in the back of his head and that was much more tolerable than the blank fear whenever he looked at the guy. Also, Tony had to realize that he was always looking forward to go back to the hospital at around half past six in the evening. He found that he missed Gibbs. Missed looking at him, missed talking to him and missed his presence. And it somehow made it so much easier to tear himself away from him in the mornings.

He still wasn't sleeping very well and he still wasn't going home, as he stayed at the hospital every night, but it didn't seem like it mattered much. He was slowly finding a sort of balance again and it didn't even matter that he was dead on his feet most of the time. But even he had to realize that things were slowly going back to normal. Not like it had been before – it never would be like that ever again – but he seemed to function more naturally again. He didn't need to remind himself to get up in the mornings, didn't need to remind himself to eat something and didn't need to remind himself to give someone a smile when they were nice to him. All those things came to him naturally again and even though it seemed all so wrong, he knew that it was healthy, too. So he let it happen, knowing that the others were slowly becoming more relaxed around him because of it, too.

Consequently, it wasn't very hard for Tony to give his okay to pursue a suspect when McGee had found a new lead on one of their cold cases on Friday. He hadn't known of course that it would lead them to a much bigger case that would leave them without as much as a nap for the next three days. They had to find the killer of not one but three petty officers. They had been killed over the duration of a whole year and Tony and the others hadn't made the connection between them all until McGee had looked up their financial records and had realized that they had all given large amounts of money to one and the same person, one Matthew Fox. Fox had been nowhere to be found, but Abby had worked some of her magic by Sunday and had found his photo on a fake driver's license. They finally located him on Monday and brought him in.

Tony let Ziva do the interrogation because he simply couldn't muster up the energy to do it. He was glad that they had caught the guy, was glad that he had done the right thing in coming back to work in the first place. But it didn't stop his guilty conscience to resurface as soon as Ziva had opened her mouth to speak in the other room. He was sure that they had caught the right guy and he was just as sure that Ziva was perfectly capable to break him, but he suddenly realized that he hadn't been worrying about Gibbs those last couple of days. He had been so wrapped up in the case that he hadn't found the time to visit him in the hospital. He had called there twice a day to make sure that the guy was still alright but he knew that that was hardly enough. He simply couldn't leave him alone like that, could he? And yet, as he watched Ziva talk to the perp, eliciting the fact that he had blackmailed the petty officers so that he wouldn't tell their wives about their affairs, Tony couldn't help but finding himself able to breathe freely again. He should have felt bad about it and he _did_ - and yet the thought was oddly soothing.

It was soothing to know that he could function without the other guy there. He knew that he had to do that in the end anyway, had to accept the fact that Gibbs wasn't likely to come back to work ever again and yet, he hadn't anticipated that it would happen so soon.

Was one hot case really enough to forget about all the other stuff? Tony knew that it wasn't but he also noticed that he had been so distracted over the last few days that the overwhelming fear that had plagued him for months now had somehow diminished somewhat. It was still there, hanging like a thunderhead right over his head, but in some way he didn't feel like it could come crashing down on him any second anymore.

But before Tony could dwell on the thought for too long, Ziva had cracked their suspect as he admitted to having killed the three men as they had refused to pay him even more money. The team had written their reports by six o'clock and Tony dismissed the other two, telling them to go home and get some rest. He knew that he desperately needed some rest, too, but he couldn't let himself have it just yet. Maybe at night when Jethro was asleep, maybe then he'd get some shut-eye, too.

.

An hour later, he quietly opened the door to Jethro's room. It was a little too early for the man to be already asleep but Tony didn't want to take any chances. Waking up the sleeping man was the last thing he wanted. He knew that he needed to sleep as much as he could. As he closed the door behind him, however, he heard some rustling coming from the direction of the bed and he knew that he hadn't missed Jethro's waking hours after all. With a smile on his lips, he turned around and was momentarily caught completely off guard because Jethro was not only looking him straight in the eyes but seemed to sport the slightest of smiles, too. Ever since he had woken up from his coma, he had never smiled. But right now, he was most definitely doing it. Tony stared at him for a few moments, unable to move and hence breaking up their moment. So he just stood there by the door, staring and smiling back at him, never averting his eyes from Jethro's blue ones.

Did Jethro actually recognize him? Had he maybe even missed him over the last couple of days, just like Tony had missed him? Was that really possible?

Like in trance, Tony finally stepped forward and then managed to find his voice again.

"Hey," he said barely above a whisper, still too afraid to scare away that wonderful moment.

But Jethro just continued to look at him and then, to Tony's utter surprise, lifted his left hand. First, Tony had no idea why Gibbs was doing it but then, with a weird feeling in his stomach that he usually only got whenever Gibbs had kissed him, he realized that the other man was trying to wave his hand. Feeling his heart pick up pace and the smile on his lips get even broader, Tony took another step forward.

"Hey," he said again, sitting down right next to the bed. "I missed you so much."

The smile on Gibbs' face never wavered, even as he let his rather shaky hand drop back onto the mattress. He just continued to look at Tony for a very long time and for the first time since Jethro had woken up all those weeks ago, Tony was sure that he was actually looking at Jethro, was actually looking at the man he had fallen in love with all those years ago.

And he was sure that right at that moment, Jethro knew who Tony was, too. At least, Tony fervently hoped that that smile told him exactly that.

* * *

_A/N: Hope you liked it and that you'll also like the season premiere tonight. At least I'm really excited about it xD_


	9. Part II Recovering: Retrospection

_A/N: Thanks for your feedback, guys! Hope you like this chapter, too, and a review on your way out would be really rad, too. :)_

* * *

Chapter Three: _Retrospection_

The next morning, Tony woke up with a groan. His neck was killing him. As he slowly opened his eyes and took in his surroundings, he knew why. He had fallen asleep with his head on Jethro's mattress. Stretching himself and then leaning back in his chair, he realized that he was feeling oddly uplifted this morning. He turned ever so slightly to look at the still sleeping form that was his partner and then felt a large grin spread on his own face. The guy had smiled at him last night, had waved at him. And this was as good as it gets, Tony was sure about that. After a stressful week with work, the murderer and all the back and forth to the hospital and the Navy Yard, he had finally gotten some results. They had caught the killer, he had done something useful for once and to top that off, Jethro had made some real progress.

Tony felt his gut clench ever so slightly as he realized that he had had nothing to do with that. He hadn't been there. Suddenly he realized that it probably hadn't been the first time that Jethro had waved at somebody, hadn't been the first time that he had moved because he had wanted to. He had daily sessions with his physical therapist after all and chances were that he had been doing that for a few days already and Tony had missed all of that. Had missed it because he simply hadn't been there.

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. It was no use beating himself up, he knew that. He had been through this before. He was going to work not because he wanted to get away from here, but because he needed to. He – they – needed that money, it was as simple as that. And it had done him good over the last couple of days, he couldn't lie about that. So, there was no reason to feel devastated now just because he had missed something, be it ever so monumental. The important thing was that Gibbs was moving on his own account, had maybe recognized Tony last night and everything else was a minor matter.

Feeling the slightly happy feeling sink back into him somewhat, Tony reached out his hand as if to touch Jethro, but refrained at the last moment. Even last night when he had been so happy about the older man's progress, he hadn't dared to touch him. He had been too afraid to chase away that moment by making Gibbs flinch away from him once again. He just hadn't wanted to risk it and he wouldn't do it now, either, even though he was still asleep. Nothing and no one would make his good mood go away today.

.

It had been time for him to go to work before Jethro had woken up, but little did it do to diminish Tony's good mood. By lunchtime, he had been doing more paperwork than he could remember doing all of the previous week. He decided that it was time for a break and after a quick phone call to the hospital, ensuring himself that everything was still alright with Jethro, he went down to the cafeteria, got a CafPow! for Abby and then all but waltzed into the scientist's lab, just short of humming.

"Hey, my princess of the darkness," he said as she turned around, a smile on her lips as she turned down the volume of what was oddly enough classical music.

"You're cheerful today," Abby observed before she took the beverage and sipped from the straw. "What brought this up?"

"Can't I just be happy?" Tony asked and sat down on one of the chairs in front of the computer.

"You can. Should even," Abby replied, giving him another smile. "But there is a reason, isn't there?"

"Yup. Gibbs is awake, Abs."

Abby looked at him for a moment, incomprehension settling in. She furrowed a brow and then tilted her head ever so slightly as if she wasn't all that sure that Tony was still sane.

"How is that news?" she finally asked, the look still on her face and Tony finally realized that he hadn't quite phrased it right.

"No, Abs," he started over, still grinning at her rather goofily. "He's awake awake. He smiled at me last night. Do you realize how big that is? And… he waved at me. He smiled and waved. I think… I mean, I don't know… but I think last night… he knew who I was, you know."

Abby stared at him for a moment, her eyes big as saucers before a broad smile appeared on her face.

"You mean that?" she then asked and before Tony could do as much as nod, she had her arms flung around him, hugging him tightly. "That is so awesome."

"Yeah, it is," Tony mumbled into her shoulder, secretly glad to be hugged because he really did miss any sort of physical contact these days.

"Strange how those things happen so suddenly, isn't it?" Abby continued after a little while, happily sucking on her CafPow!

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've been at the hospital day before yesterday to visit him and he never even looked at me, even though, I'm sure he knew I was there, you know. He just kept on staring at the door all the time. It was as if he was waiting for something."

Tony stared at her for a moment or two, trying to understand what she had just been telling him but before he could form an opinion, Abby continued to babble, even more excited than before.

"Oh! Do you think he was waiting for you? I mean, if you say that he knew who you were last night, maybe he has known all along? And he missed you and was just waiting for you to come back from work?"

"Abby, stop," Tony all but bellowed, hoping to put an end to her madness and yet, he couldn't help the smile that spread on his lips. "We don't know that."

"I'm sure he was, though, Tony."

"I don't know. And you know what, it hardly matters. All I care about is that he moved and that he gave me a goddamn smile. You know how long it has been since he smiled? Even before that guy hit him, he has been really grumpy because of the case. I couldn't even remember the last time, you know. But now I can, Abby. I can remember. And that's all I care right now."

.

Tony's mood continued to get better with every day that followed. He was still mad at himself for having gone back to work and missing everything, but he knew it was necessary and just because he was missing stuff, it didn't meant that he was missing out. Every night when he would walk into Jethro's room, the other guy was up and looking at him, most of the time even with a smile on his lips. What made Tony even happier than that was the fact that the smile that had been broad the first time he had seen it on the other man's face had changed ever so slightly. Now, Jethro was sporting a half-smile for the most part and it made Tony giddy knowing that this was his – was Gibbs' – famous smile, that smile that he loved so much.

As slow as the progress had been over the last couple of weeks and even months, everything now seemed to change from one day to the next. It was like every night when Tony would return to Jethro after work there was something new. It had started with Gibbs moving around his hands on purpose three days after the initial smile. But it hadn't stopped there. One night when Tony was late getting there because one of their cold cases had once again turned hot and expecting the other guy to be asleep already, Jethro was sitting upright, grinning ever so slightly at him. Tony had stopped dead in his tracks and had stared at him for at least a minute before Gibbs had started to fidget, waking him from his moment of momentary surprise.

.

It all was perfect all of a sudden and yet, Tony sometimes couldn't help but feel emptier inside with every day that passed by. It wasn't the fact that Jethro still couldn't talk, which, according to the doctors wasn't unusual and would happen gradually, and it wasn't the fact that he was missing so much, either. Tony was even sure that Gibbs was perfectly sure who Tony was, too, at least to some degree. And yet, he still wouldn't let Tony touch him. Tony had tried it once again, had only lifted his hand to put it on the other man's forearm, but he had seen the sudden trepidation in those blue eyes and had immediately given up on it again. But that didn't mean that Tony understood. What was so wrong that he wasn't allowed to touch him? Once again, Jethro never flinched when Ducky patted his hand on one of his frequent visits and had even pulled a rather shaky arm around Abby when she had carefully given him a hug. So what was it that made it alright for Abby and Ducky to touch him, but not for Tony? There were so many mixed messages that Gibbs unconsciously sent Tony on a daily basis and the younger man just couldn't see the reason for it. Sometimes he just wished that Gibbs would reach out his arm and place a slap on the back of his head. It would have been enough. Just that one touch, painful as it was, would be enough. Would be all Tony needed to be truly happy.

But it never came.

.

At the suggestion of the doctors and because Gibbs was doing pretty well physically speaking, Tony had started to tell him random stories of their past. He had told him about the time in desert of Arizona where Tony had all but fallen off the horse for at least five times, had told him about the time they had given the fence around their house a new coat of paint and managed to have much more paint on their clothes than on the picket itself.

He told him about anything he could think of - anything happy that was. He didn't have the heart to tell him about Shannon and Kelly, didn't have the heart to tell him about Mike or Kate's death. Tony just couldn't do it. He wanted to keep Jethro in positive spirits these days, so he wasn't exactly keen on spoiling it. He knew that it might even help the older man to hear about those things, but Tony couldn't bring himself to do it. Not when he, himself, was barely holding on to these happy memories to keep himself sane. He couldn't dwell on the negative thoughts for too long. They just wouldn't help and so he let them slide for the moment. Gibbs would know soon enough.

Not that it mattered much anyway. While Jethro seemed like he did recognize Tony every time he came back from work, he didn't seem to remember anything from the time before his coma. The doctors had reassured that this, too, was only temporary and it was less than likely that he would forever stay like that but little did it help to stop Tony from getting more frustrated as the days went by. Yes, he was happy that Gibbs was doing so well, was moving, was even eating all on his own again. And yes, he knew that he would learn to talk again eventually and yet he couldn't help but feel lost about the fact that the older man had no recollection of him from before the coma, had no recollection of them being together, had no recollection of even working with him.

Tony couldn't even bring himself to tell him about the time they spent together, couldn't bring himself to tell him about the last three years. He had tried, but as soon as he had said as much as a word about it, he felt his insides clench uncomfortably. He couldn't tell him, couldn't tell him about the night they had shared their first kiss, couldn't tell him about how happy he had been because he simply couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand the thought of the other guy knowing nothing about it when it had been the happiest three years in Tony's life, when those three years had meant everything to him. But Jethro didn't remember, didn't know that and it only made it so much harder for Tony to accept that they might not have been that important to Jethro than they had been for him.

Abby had scolded him and then told him he was crazy for even thinking like that when he had finally told her his reasons for being so disappointed one day in her lab. She had told him that the older man would come around eventually and that he had been just as happy as Tony had been. And yet Tony couldn't help but feel more desperate with every day that went by with Gibbs giving no sign of remembering anything. It _was_ silly, Tony knew that. And yet it didn't help. Didn't help at all.

.

Four weeks after that initial smile, Tony was still torn between being utterly happy about the fact that Jethro's condition was still improving by the day and being devastated whenever he let himself think about all the things the other man didn't remember. He had found his balance in the end, had managed to keep the gloomy thoughts out of his mind for the most part. He was still as positive around Jethro as possible, hoping that the good mood would somehow skip over to him. But the older guy must have been catching Tony's own mood swings nevertheless because he seemed to become more frustrated with himself with every new day that Tony and the others would tell him about stuff from his past and he was apparently still drawing a blank about it all.

So when Tony entered his room after a long and rather boring day of cold cases at the office, he wasn't all that surprised when he saw Jethro sitting on his bed, his back slumped rather heavily against the headrest of his bed. He was staring at picture from one of Tony's old photographic albums. He barely acknowledged him when Tony sat down on a chair next to his bed in order to see what exactly he was looking at. In the picture, Gibbs and Tony were standing side by side on the corner of a baseball field back in the days when they both still used to play with NCIS against other agencies just for the fun of it. There was nothing particularly special about that photo and yet Tony had always loved it. It was over ten years old already, but for once, Gibbs was actually laughing in this one. Tony couldn't remember what they had been talking about that day or who had even taken that photo and it didn't matter anyway. He just knew that he had been happy back then, happy just to be there for so many reasons.

Now, though, Jethro was staring at it with a furrowed brow, as if he was willing himself to remember about that day. He finally let out a breath and turned to look at Tony, the photograph still in his left hand. He reached out his other hand and for a moment Tony's heart stuttered at the thought of Jethro actually touching him, but the older man was simply pointing at him before he drew back his hand and patted his own chest for a moment.

"Yeah," Tony started, having caught up what Jethro was trying to tell him. "You and me."

Gibbs nodded and then stared at the picture again as if it held all the mysteries of the world. And maybe it did, Tony thought. His heart was still not back to beating regularly for some reason and he suddenly realized why that was. Jethro had never tried to communicate with him like that before. He had patiently listened to all of his story, had reacted when he had been asked if he was thirsty or comfortable, but he hadn't started any interaction between them until now.

"We used to play baseball, Jethro," Tony finally continued when the other guy made no move to avert his eyes from the picture. "In a team with other agents. You were pretty good back then. I was a better pitcher than you, though. But we really had fun every time. I think the first time I ever heard you laugh - you know, really laugh - was during one of those games because Langer of the FBI, I think, tripped over his own shoelaces and fell down headfirst directly in front of you. See, there in the background," Tony pointed at the picture. "You can see his ruined clothes. Anyway… Till then, I didn't even think that you were capable of laughing, you know. No offense and all, but you were pretty gloomy back then."

Gibbs had turned towards him at his last words, a strange expression on his face all of a sudden. His brow was furrowed again and his eyes were watching him rather warily. Tony was just about to say something… anything really when Jethro's eyes left him and stared at the picture instead. Then he pointed at it, at the guy in the background to be more specific.

"Langer," Tony repeated. "Brent Langer. Worked for the FBI at that time, but he used to be on your team before that."

Again, Gibbs gave him a speculative look and Tony mutely debated telling him that Langer had returned to his team and had been killed by Lee in the end. But he couldn't possibly tell him that, could he now? Trying to brush away that particular chilling thought, Tony concentrated on Gibbs' face which was sporting a rather confused expression again.

"Do you remember Langer?" he asked then, feeling his heart pick up pace once again.

He didn't know whether he really wanted Gibbs to remember Langer of all people, but he knew that he couldn't afford being picky when it came to memories. Any memory at all was a great thing after all.

"Do you remember, Jethro?" he repeated as the slight confusion still hadn't vanished from Gibbs' features.

The older man looked at the picture for a few more moments and then back at him before he shrugged almost imperceptibly. Then he let the picture fall into his lap and reached out his left hand, so that it was parallel to the ground and then did the same thing with his right one, but palm up before he turned it over and let it fall onto his other. Tony stared at him as he repeated the motion again. He knew that Jethro was trying to tell him something, but he didn't know what exactly it was.

"I don't understand," he said helplessly.

Again, Gibbs intently stared at him and repeated his movement over and over. Tony was just about to tell him that it was no use and that it made no sense as he thought of something else and reached for his cell phone to call Abby. Maybe Gibbs' motions did make sense and Tony just didn't know it.

"Hey Abs," he said when the Goth had finally picked up her phone. "I have a question. Is there a sign in sign language where you reach out both of your hands and then impose one over the other?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. Does one hand turn from palm up to down when it touches the other?"

"Yeah, it does. What does it mean?"

"Could be death. Kind of hard to say when I can't actually see it. Why, who are you talking to?"

Tony stared at Gibbs for a moment, his pulse so loud in his ears that he was sure that the other guy and even Abby over the phone had to be hearing it, too. If Gibbs had actually just spelt out death to him, it meant that he knew that Langer was dead. Did he remember? Did he really remember Langer? And had he remembered how to sign, too? Tony blinked a couple of times as he felt the first tear run down his right cheek. He didn't care that Gibbs was eyeing him curiously now and he didn't care to keep up appearances anymore, either.

"Tony?" he heard Abby's rather loud voice over the phone, rousing him from his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Who are you talking to, Tony?"

"Jethro," Tony answered barely above a whisper. "I was talking to Jethro."

"I don't understand," Abby replied.

"I was talking about Langer," Tony slowly answered, still, almost desperately looking into Gibbs' bright blue eyes. "About how we used to play baseball against him and stuff. Gibbs just kept on staring at him and then started to sign."

At that moment, Jethro repeated the movement of his hands and then picked up the picture again. Tony felt himself nod and heard Abby talk on the other end, but didn't understand what she was saying.

"Yeah, he's dead, Gibbs," he finally said, apparently confirming Jethro's suspicion because his face fell from one moment to the next. "I'm sorry."

The older man nodded and then went back to staring at the picture and Tony hurried to hang up on Abby, reassuring her that he would call early the next day to explain everything more closely. There were more important things right now than making Abby happy. So, he just sat there by Jethro's side, never uttering a single word because he simply didn't know what to say.

"Another agent shot him to cover up her tracks and make him the bad guy," he finally provided the necessary information about Langer's death. "But we managed to find out the truth eventually. He died protecting the agency."

Gibbs nodded again and the closed expression on his face eased up a bit. Then, out of nowhere, a small smile started to spread on his lips and Tony couldn't help but feel the sudden butterflies in his stomach as he returned the gesture.

"You remembered something, Jethro," he then said so quietly that he wasn't even sure the words had left his mouth, but the older guy nodded nonetheless.

"You remembered. You fucking remembered something," Tony repeated over and over, more tears starting to fall now. "You remember."


	10. Part II Recovering: Resignation

_A/N: Thank you so much for reading and your reviews! You guys made my day! Hope you like this one, too._

* * *

Chapter Four: _Resignation_

Sometimes when Tony found himself alone for a moment, in the elevator at work, in the car on his way to work or in the small hours of the morning when his back was once again killing him so that he wasn't able to sleep, he couldn't help but think about too many things that weren't all that good for his current frame of mind. While the first weeks of Gibbs' ordeal had been horrible with not knowing when and if he'd wake up and if his brain would fully function again, Tony still thought that the weeks that followed had been even worse, at least for himself. He was constantly on edge, his mind working overtime every minute of every day and every night in order to figure out how to get more level-headed about it all. He wanted to be as supportive of Jethro as he possible could be, but the more he tried, the more the older man seemed to slip like water right through his fingers. Tony knew that Gibbs was getting better with every day that passed and yet with every bit of independence that he was slowly gaining, the hole in Tony's heart grew bigger. It wasn't even the fact that Gibbs still wasn't able to remember him. It was more easily the way he behaved around him. Sure, he was still giving him smiles whenever he came back from work, he was still listening intently to any stories that Tony would tell him, but something still seemed to be off in some way and Tony couldn't even put a finger on what it was exactly. It was like Gibbs was holding something back on purpose and even though, the younger man knew it to be ridiculous, he couldn't help but feel that way.

.

"Tony?"

Abby stopped him on his way out of her lab early on Tuesday afternoon, two weeks after Gibbs had remembered Langer.

"Yeah?" he turned around to look at her.

"Would you mind if I stopped by at Gibbs' tonight? I thought maybe he'd like to learn more sign language… or you know, to see if he still remembers some of it."

Tony studied her for a moment, taking in her smiling face and her twinkling green eyes. He hadn't seen her that spirited in quite some while and it somehow eased a bit of the tension he had been feeling all day.

"Sure, why not," he finally answered. "Can't hurt in any case, can it?"

"Nope," Abby said. "Can I ride with you, then?"

"Uh," he hesitated for a moment, running a hand through his hair. "Do you have to? I mean… I'm just not too keen on leaving him alone for too long just to drive you back here and stuff."

Abby looked at him for a short moment, causing him to fidget ever so slightly but before he could ask her what was up all of a sudden, Abby had turned around already, typing away on her keyboard.

"Sure, no problem, Tony. Just let me know when you're done today."

"Sure thing, Abs."

.

Later that day, Abby and Tony entered Jethro's room to find him once again perusing one of Tony's photographic albums with a slightly disgruntled expression on his face. It lit up slightly, though, when he glanced up and saw Abby approaching him. She bent down ever so slightly to hug him lightly and Tony couldn't help but feel the slight ping of jealousy when Gibbs' arm came around her with ease and no sign of hesitation. He brushed it away, though, as he offered Abby his usual chair.

"Hey Jethro," he finally said, directing his words towards the older man whose smile had long vanished from his features again. "What are you looking at?"

Gibbs just shrugged and then handed him the album. With a sinking sensation in his stomach, Tony realized that he had once again been staring at the picture of the two of them on that baseball field but before he could dwell on the disappointment, that the guy had recognized Langer in this and not him, for too long, Abby had started to talk again.

"Oh, that's the pic you've been talking about?"

"Yeah."

"It was such a fun day, wasn't it?"

"You been there?" Tony asked, slightly surprised this time as he tried to recollect as much as possible from that day. Besides the small Langer anecdote, however, he came up empty.

"Yeah, duh. I was the one taking the photo, Tony. Don't you remember how much fun we had annoying the hell out of Gibbs, so that he would let us take the picture? To, you know, celebrate the new team member."

Tony stared at her for a moment before he realized that she was right. It had been his first outing since he had joined NCIS and he had been so glad that Abby had come along because he had feared that she hadn't liked him all that much back then. But that Sunday afternoon had been so much fun that his worries had soon disappeared. He looked at the photo again for a moment or two and then realized that he did seem really happy in there. His smile was broad and genuine and even though he wasn't looking directly at the camera, as his eyes had drifted towards Gibbs, he looked relaxed and grounded and nothing indicated to the fact that Wendy had left him only two weeks previously. He had never looked at it that way, but now he realized that the reason he had been happy, even back then, was Gibbs. He hadn't been in love with him back then, not by far, but he had always felt strangely secure with the other man around him, a fact that still hadn't changed, even though Gibbs wasn't exactly in any form of protecting him right now.

"Earth to Tony," Abby's loud voice once again interrupted his thoughts and he shook himself before he turned to look at her.

"Sorry. What did you say?"

"You okay, Tony?" Abby inquired now and Tony blinked before he realized that he had probably just spaced out a bit there.

"I'm fine," he finally said. "I'll just go get myself a cup of coffee. You want something, too?"

"They don't have CafPow!, do they?"

"Nope, sorry to disappoint," Tony answered and then was just about to turn around as he, out of the corners of his eyes, caught Gibbs sit up a bit straighter, eyeing Abby curiously all of a sudden.

"Gibbs?" he asked then, feeling Abby's questioning gaze on him, but didn't care. "What is it?"

The older man had now averted his glance from the Goth and was looking at him instead, his brow furrowed as if he was thinking really hard about something. He made a gesture with his hands which Tony couldn't understand. Abby did, though.

"Repeat it?" she asked now and as Gibbs nodded, she continued. "I asked if Tony could bring me some CafPow! but they don't have it because, well, a hospital is not likely to have something with so much caffeine in it that it won't let normal people sleep for like three days."

Gibbs gave a weak smile at her little rant but was still looking at her in wonder and then gestured again, his eyes never leaving hers. His hands were still rather shaky and uncoordinated but over and over, he signed the same thing before Abby let out a loud squeal that caused Tony to actually jump despite the fact he had seen it coming.

"What did he say?" he finally asked almost desperately because Abby suddenly had a radiant smile on her lips and had still started to cry at the same time.

"I think," she answered slowly, still staring at Gibbs. "I mean… he just asked me if he used to bring me CafPow!, Tony!"

Feeling his heart pick up pace, Tony stared at her for a long time, trying to figure out the strange sensation in his stomach. One part of him wanted to celebrate the fact that Gibbs seemed to remember something once again, but it was only a very small part in him. The rest of him felt like his heart had been ripped from his body and shredded to pieces. It wasn't rational, he knew that, and yet he couldn't help it. He wanted to cry, wanted to shout and he was furious all of a sudden. He held himself back, though, as he forced his hands to relax und uncurl and then, after taking a deep breath, he just turned around and left the others behind. He didn't manage not to slam the door behind him, though, causing a startled old lady who had just happened to walk by Jethro's room to let out a surprised cry.

"Sorry," Tony just mumbled without stopping as he hurried to get out of the hospital as fast as possible.

He was being stupid and he knew he should be glad that Gibbs' memory seemed to be coming back bit by bit, but he just couldn't help himself.

He was devastated.

He loved the guy so much, he had been there for him ever since he had taken the beating and yet it was _Langer_ he remembered and it was _Abby_ he remembered and not him. Granted, Abby was a huge part of Gibbs' life but it somehow didn't seem fair to him. Hadn't he deserved to be remembered, too? He had been in a relationship with the guy for over three years, had worked side by side with him for over ten. Didn't that count for anything?

He felt tears streaming down his face as he sat down on the bench where he once had had the conversation about going back to work with Vance. He didn't care to wipe the treacherous tears away this time, he didn't care what people might think of him. He simply didn't care. He needed to get himself under control, he knew that, but it didn't stop the resentment from boiling up right underneath the surface. He didn't want to feel that way and yet he couldn't help it. So, he let the tears fall freely as he leaned back against the backrest of the bench, staring into the sky that was slowly but steadily turning to black.

He had no clue how long he had been sitting there, watching the sun disappear, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It couldn't have been too long, though, because if one thing was for certain it was the tears that were still running down his cheeks.

"Tony?" Abby whispered gently as she sat down next to him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Tony mumbled, wiping away his tears with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

"Try that again?" the Goth prodded, her hand finding its way to his thigh where it came to rest. "What has you so upset?"

Tony remained silent, his gaze fixed on one of the trees directly in front of him. He didn't want to talk about it, knowing that Abby would be mad at him for thinking like that. He didn't want to talk, period. He was so tired of talking. He was tired of talking to Jethro because it was no use whatsoever. He was tired of talking to an endless string of people who inquired about Gibbs' health. He was just freaking tired about it all. He wanted it to stop. He simply wanted it to stop.

"Tony? Come on, talk to me," she was almost pleading now and Tony finally turned to look at her, only to see her staring back at him, her make-up running down her cheeks because she, too, was crying. "What's wrong?" she continued as she realized that Tony had still made no move to answer. "Isn't it great that he remembered something? I mean it's nothing big and all, but it means that it's slowly coming back, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it's great," Tony finally answered, his voice tripping with more sarcasm than he had intended.

"Tony?"

"No, it's great he remembers. Totally great. Really awesome that he remembers you. And Langer. And the fucking CafPow! That's really great, Abs."

"Tony?" Abby asked again, her hand searching for Tony's, but he pulled it away from her. "This doesn't mean anything."

"How can it not?" he asked bitterly, once again averting his eyes to stare at the trees instead. "What is it that makes him remember you or Langer but not me? What is that makes him let you touch him and not me? What in the world have I done wrong? Huh? Can you tell me that?"

"You've done nothing wrong, Tony. You just have to be patient."

"I'm sick of being patient," he cried out now, feeling the anger hit him at full speed. "I just want something. Some tiny little thing from him but there's just nothing."

"It's not his fault," Abby said so calmly that Tony sat back again and looked at her. "It's not his fault."

"I know it's not his fault, okay?" he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face to remove the evidence that he had been crying. "I know it's not and yet I can't help it. I've been there for the guy as much as I could. I've been working with him for most of the last twelve years and been living with him for the last two. How can he not remember me? Just how? Don't I deserve something? One tiny little thing? A goddamn touch? Don't I? How can all of that, all what we had just have vanished? I love him, Abby, and he doesn't remember any of it."

"Tony," Abby started but then trailed off and just took a good look at him before she almost forcefully wrapped her arms around him and this time he let her, not knowing what else to do anyway.

"How can he not remember?" he whispered again.

"He will," Abby answered just as quietly. "You'll see, he will remember. Don't be mad at him and don't blame yourself. You've been incredible these last couple of weeks, you hear me? And we all know that you're tearing yourself apart over this. I've been talking to McGee the other day and he's really worried, too. You don't eat enough and you don't take care of yourself anymore. You need to relax, need to go home once in a while to get away from all of this."

"I can't go home. He needs me here."

"Yeah, he does, Tony, but listen to me. You're getting more frustrated every day. You're not smiling and joking anymore. Remember how happy you were when you told me he smiled at you a couple of weeks ago? Remember how you felt that day? I want that Tony back. I want that Tony back who actually was glad that there was any progress. And you might not see it right now, but he has remembered another thing tonight and that is a huge progress. And still here you are, resenting me because it was my favorite drink he remembered. But it doesn't matter, Tony. The important thing is that he does remember stuff and the rest will come back eventually. So, don't be mad at him and go home. If not tonight, then tomorrow or the day after that. You need to relax because you're making Gibbs in there uncomfortable, too. He may not remember you right now but he does feel your frustration and your desperation and he's absorbing it. You know how upset he just was as you left like that? One moment you're like Mr. Sunshine and the next you're storming out the room and he has no idea why. You have to explain stuff like that to him. I'm sure he's just as frustrated as you are, if not more, that he can't remember anything about your relationship. And that's why you have to stay positive because you have to remember for both of you. You have to tell him about it, tell him about your first kiss or the day you wheedled him into moving in with him… all that stuff. I know you probably have told him about it already a hundred of times, but do it over and over again."

"I didn't," Tony admitted quietly, fixing his glance on his shoes and trying to wrap his head around what Abby had just told him.

"What?" Abby asked now, equally quiet and maybe even a bit shocked. "Why haven't you told him?"

"I just couldn't."

"He has no clue that you're a couple? He doesn't know you love him?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't know, Abs. Every time I tried in the beginning, it hurt too much thinking about it and that I might never get it back. It was easier when he still wasn't really conscious, but now it's… It's just too much."

"You have to tell him, Tony."

"Why? Why do I have to tell him? What difference does it make?"

"It makes all the difference. What do you think will happen if he remembers something and you never told him? What do you think he's going to do then?"

"Head-slap me?"

"Ha-ha, very funny," Abby scolded. "Tell him… tell him that you love him. Tell him what it feels like when he kisses you or whatever. As much as you deserve to be remembered as much does he deserve to know about you. Maybe something you tell him will trigger some memory. I have no clue how that works," she gave him a small smile, "but it might help."

"I don't think I can."

"Oh, you damn well can," Abby said determinedly said now as she stood up. "I don't care if you don't want to. You go in there now, apologize for storming out the way you did and I'll go get my stuff and leave the two of you alone. And then you tell him everything. And don't you dare contradict me now, DiNozzo, because I'm not done yet. When you're done with work tomorrow, you will go home, take a good long shower and lie down on the couch and watch some 007. I'll make sure to stay here tomorrow night, maybe I'll take Ziva or Tim with me, I'm sure they'd want to. So, you don't have to worry about anything, okay?"

Tony stared at her with wide eyes, trying to object but somehow didn't find the words. So, he just sat there, looking into her determined face as she waited for him to say something.

"You got that, DiNozzo?" she then said in a horrible attempt to imitate Gibbs, causing Tony, despite himself, to let out a bark of a laugh.

"Okay," he finally answered, his shoulders slumping. "I'll try, okay? I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

"Okay," Abby just said before she reached for his hand and helped him up to engage him in a tight hug. "I'm really sorry he remembered me," she then whispered so softly that Tony wasn't even sure she had said something.

"Not your fault, Abs."

"I'm still sorry."

Tony mutely nodded and then let go of her, steeling himself before he slowly walked back towards the dreaded hospital.

"Hey Tony," Abby spoke up just in front of Jethro's room. "I really am proud of you. You know that, right? I'm just really worried about you, that's all."

"I know," Tony nodded again and felt a small smile appear on his lips. "I know."

"Just wanted to make sure. Oh, and… while you're officially off Gibbs-duty tomorrow, go get yourself a haircut, will you?"

Tony let out a laugh again, suddenly not feeling so broken anymore. At least, he knew now that Abby would be there – no matter what.


	11. Part II Recovering: Commemoration

_A/N: Thanks again for your awesome reviews! 3 Oh, and this chapter will be more cheerful than usual ;)_

* * *

Chapter Five: _Commemoration_

Tony watched Abby saying her goodbyes to Jethro for the night, promising him to come back the next day which caused him to give her a small smile in return. Abby then gathered her stuff and gave Tony a quick peck on his right cheek before she closed the door behind her, leaving him standing there, desperately trying to regain his composure. Jethro was eyeing him rather suspiciously at the moment and he seemed slightly paler than usual. He wasn't exactly glaring at him, at least it didn't have the edge of a normal Gibbs-glare to it, but he was wary, that was plain to see. Taking a deep breath, Tony finally progressed further into the room and then sat down next to the bed, carefully avoiding eye contact with the other man. He remained silent for what seemed to be a very long time, but Gibbs never moved, never urged him to talk. In fact, he was his usual stoic self, just like he had always been when Tony had had something on his mind. Maybe not everything had changed after all.

"Look, I'm sorry," he finally started, staring at his own hands. "I shouldn't have left like that."

Gibbs let out something that sounded suspiciously like a grunt and Tony looked at him despite himself. He was still sporting a rather wary expression but his eyes were kindly looking at him, so Tony continued.

"I was just… hurt, I guess. And it's not your fault, you don't remember anything, god, I know that, but sometimes I feel… ah hell."

He trailed off, taking a deep breath before he looked Gibbs straight into the eyes. The older man was looking right back at him, the confused expression still on his face, so Tony hurried to continue.

"The reason I freaked out is… there's something I need to tell you and it's important."

He saw Gibbs stiffen ever so slightly, so he tried to give him a small smile before he started over very quietly.

"It's nothing bad, not at all actually. Bad thing is that I haven't told you until now. I really should have, though."

He stopped again, running a hand through his by now ridiculously long hair (Abby had been right, he really needed a haircut) and then turned towards Gibbs again who had raised one of his eyebrows and was squirming ever so slightly.

"Okay," Tony took a deep breath, trying to swallow his own insecurities. "Thing is… what I haven't told you before is… You and me, we're together, like a couple. We've been living together for two years now."

Gibbs stared at him for a moment, his brows furrowed and his cheeks slightly flushed. If Tony hadn't been that nervous, he would have smiled at the sudden awkwardness that was so untypical of Jethro. His pulse had quickened again and he realized that the palms of hands had started to sweat ever so slightly. He wiped them on the fabric of his jeans without any real success before he turned towards Gibbs again, who had a curious expression on his face that Tony wasn't able to interpret. Then, all of a sudden, the tension, which Tony hadn't even noticed before, left Gibbs' body as he leaned back against the headrest of his bed. He tilted his head ever so slightly, not quite smiling but definitely not scowling either as he looked at Tony. Something had changed in his demeanor and yet again the younger man had no clue what exactly it was.

"I know you might be confused now," Tony continued, slightly rambling because he couldn't stand the silence any longer. "We were each other's first. Wow, that does sound weird. But you know what I mean. I've never even looked at a guy twice before you. It just kind of happened, you know. One moment you were just my boss and my best friend and then suddenly you were… everything and more and I should have told you that so much earlier, I'm so sorry."

Gibbs just nodded again, the right corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly as he raised an eyebrow again and Tony, having learned to read Gibbs' expression like no other, understood that he wanted to know why.

"I really wanted to tell you at first. I really did. But then you didn't remember anything and it was somehow so hard to talk about those things. It just… hurt too much just thinking about the possibility that you might never remember, you know. And here I was sitting having all those memories and still being too afraid to think about them. What can I say… I'm just sorry, okay?"

Gibbs continued to look at him for a very long time before he finally nodded and this time actually gave him a smile. Tony let out a breath he hadn't even known he had been holding and slumped back into his chair, scrubbing a tired hand over his face. He would have given everything to get to know what Gibbs was thinking at the moment, but he couldn't talk to him, of course. It hardly even mattered, though.

"Are you mad?" he finally whispered, leaning closer towards the other man who was now absent-mindedly smoothing down his blanket.

He looked up at Tony's words, though, and seemed to think about it for a moment before he shook his head. For a second, Tony was sure that his left hand had twitched as if he wanted to reach out for him, but the second passed and the younger man was almost sure that he had imagined it after all. Trying hard not to let his disappointment show, he smiled broadly at Jethro and was slightly startled when the other guy returned it with a smile of his own.

"We're good?" Tony asked just to make sure and ease his mind.

Gibbs nodded once and then yawned widely. Quickly glancing at his watch, Tony suddenly realized that it had gotten really late all of sudden without him even noticing.

"Time for bed, huh? Oh, before I forget and in case you're not up yet when I leave tomorrow morning… Abby's forcing me to stay at home tomorrow… over night. She'll stay here though. I know you probably don't need anyone to stay with you and stuff, but I think I need someone to stay here. I know it's stupid, but I just want to make sure, okay?"

Again, Gibbs nodded and gave him a half-smile before he made himself comfortable and soon was out like a light. Tony, however, stayed up a little while longer just to look at the older man. There was something different tonight. He seemed slightly more relaxed and the lines on his forehead were not as clearly recognizable as usually. Tony didn't know whether it was because of the thing he had told him or if it was the tiny piece of memory that had resurfaced and frankly, all of a sudden and despite his earlier break-down, he couldn't have cared less.

A little while later, he fell asleep watching the other guy.

.

The uneasiness that Tony had been feeling all day ever since he had left Jethro's hospital room in the morning slowly faded away as he looked at himself in the mirror in their bedroom. He had taken Abby's advice and had gotten his hair done earlier today. He looked more like his usual self, he realized, even with the dark circles around his eyes. Maybe Abby had been right to tell him to go home. Granted, he already missed Gibbs, but perhaps this was exactly what he needed right now. The talk with the other guy the night before had gone better than he had expected. It hadn't been all that hard to talk about it and Gibbs had seemed like he hadn't minded too much, either.

Sighing, Tony slipped into one of Jethro's white undershirts and then slowly went downstairs into the living room where he perused his DVD collection for a while before he found what he had been looking for. He switched on the flat screen that he had brought with him when he had first moved in and started the movie. It was the very first James Bond and it had never failed to make him feel better. As he watched Sean Connery chase the mine owner Dr. No, Tony couldn't help but notice that this felt oddly normal. The movie was still the same, the couch was still as comfortable as he remembered and he, himself, was just the same guy he had always been, maybe a few pounds lighter, but basically the same. He still enjoyed the same stuff and even though he wanted Gibbs to sit right next to him complaining about the unlikelihood of Bond getting away from all of this, it didn't feel all that bad.

.

He stretched himself as he watched the credits roll. He was tired like hell despite the fact that it was only shortly after ten o'clock. Maybe he should call it a night and get some real sleep for once. He didn't think that it would be much use because he'd wake up due to one nightmare of another by three o'clock anyway, but it was probably worth a try. Briefly, he entertained the thought of going back upstairs and sleeping in their bedroom, but his heart clenched at the mere thought of how cold it would be without the other guy there, so he just turned off the television and made himself comfortable on the couch. It was kind of ironic that he was now sleeping where Jethro had used to sleep for years and years before Tony had come along. It was oddly fitting that while the other man wasn't there, he would do the very same thing. Before he could dwell on the thought for too long, however, his eyes fell shut and he was asleep in mere seconds.

.

Tony slowly blinked his eyes open when the sunshine tickled the tip of his nose the next morning. He groaned as he looked around for a moment without knowing where he was. As he realized that he was at home, he couldn't help but grin to himself. He had slept through the night for the first time in what felt like forever and he hadn't woken up to one of his usual nightmares for the first time since the horrible thing had a mental note to bring Abby some extra CafPow! this morning to thank her, he finally stood up and picked up his watch. He stared at it for a moment and then cursed loudly as he hurried up the stairs to get dressed. He was running late – really late. It was already after eight o'clock. He quickly sent a text message to McGee that he would be coming in late, so that they wouldn't worry and then hurriedly grabbed his stuff and drove Gibbs-style towards the Navy Yard. Still slightly out of breath, he walked into the bullpen to see Ziva and McGee at their desks, both looking a little tired, which stood in stark contrast to Tony, who felt like a million dollars that morning for reasons even unknown to himself.

"Morning Probies," he greeted them, earning himself a slight scowl from Ziva and a raised eyebrow from Tim.

"Everything alright?" McGee asked.

"Yeah, McGee, peachy."

"Why are you late?" Ziva asked now, standing up from her desk to walk over to Tony's, a smile on her lips.

"Uh," he answered, typing in his password. "I overslept. Forgot to set the alarm."

"You know," Ziva replied, looking over at Tim for a moment before she returned her gaze to him. "You look a lot like Gibbs last night. You seem more balanced today, yes?"

"Well," Tony gave her a smile. "I don't know about that. But I've slept perfectly well tonight. You've both been at Gibbs' tonight?"

"Yeah," Tim answered. "And he _did_ look a lot like you. I don't exactly know what it was but he seemed… very alert and happy, I guess. As far as one can always tell that Gibbs is happy, it's not like he doesn't hide it very well."

Tony barked out a laugh and nodded. "Thanks for staying there tonight. Means a lot."

"No Problem, Tony," Ziva just said and then, like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, they all went back to work.

.

"Hey Jethro," Tony greeted the older man later that day.

The day had gone by in a blur and a happy one at that. He had treated the Probies, Abby, Ducky and Palmer to lunch without even knowing why. He was just in a good mood and even the sheer endless cold cases hadn't changed that fact. The others had been surprised but had gone along with it, not questioning the reason for one of Tony's rare good days.

Jethro just raised his hand and waved shortly in a way of saying hello to Tony. The younger man sat down next to him and then noticed a piece of paper that Gibbs was clutching in his slightly shaky hand.

"What's that?"

Jethro looked at him for a moment as if he hadn't seen him for a very long time before he almost imperceptibly shrugged and handed him the paper. For a moment, Tony's breath hitched as he thought that Gibbs had written something but then he realized that it was only Abby's handwriting after all.

_Tony – _

_Gibbs wants to know how the two of you got together. Thought you would prefer to tell the story yourself._

At the corner she had doodled a small skull which caused Tony to grin ever so slightly.

"You want to know how we got together?" he asked looking up at Gibbs again who was slightly pink in the face again.

He never used to blush, but it somehow improved Tony's mood even more.

"Well," he started. "Once upon a time there was a prince…"

He was, however, rudely interrupted by a groan coming from Jethro. He looked at him again and couldn't help but smile at the sheer intolerance that was mirrored on the other guy's face. Yup, some things never changed.

"Okay, okay," he started over again. "It was a little over three years ago…"

.

. Flashback .

"_I hate cases like that," Tony said as he entered Gibbs' living room, feeling oddly beaten from the last couple of days._

"_Hmm," the older man just answered, his attention on the two steaks he was cooking over the fireplace._

"_You weren't expecting someone, were you?"_

"_No, just you."_

"_Neat," Tony just answered as he opened two bottles of beer and handed one of them over. "Does that ever get better? You know… with age?" he then continued without thinking, but stopped dead at Gibbs' raised eyebrow._

"_Are you calling me old, DiNozzo?"_

"_No, Boss, wouldn't dream of it," Tony hurried to defend himself. "I just meant… with more experience on the job."_

_Gibbs just grunted again as he took the steaks off the fire and handed one of the plates to Tony before he sat down on his couch._

"_It doesn't."_

"_Way to smash my hope there, Boss," Tony sighed and got his knife out of his pocket and started to eat._

_They didn't really speak much while they were eating, but Tony was long used to it by now. He had learned to enjoy the occasional silence and Gibbs was the one person that put him at ease – always and without exception. _

"_Something else on your mind, Tony?" Gibbs finally asked as he was done eating._

"_No, I mean, it's stupid, I guess. It's just… have you seen the wife of the dead Lieutenant? I mean we've seen a lot of mourning wives and husbands over the years, but she was just so… devastated. I sometimes just wonder… if someone would be just like that if I died, you know. I want that, too. Not the being devastated part, but the being loved one. I know it sounds stupid…"_

_Tony trailed off now as he leaned against the backrest of the couch, staring at the ceiling. He probably shouldn't have drunk those couple of beers before he got here after all. He was sure that Gibbs wasn't exactly keen on talking with him about stuff like that. To his surprise, however, Gibbs answered after a little while, his voice oddly quiet for once._

"_There are people who care about you, you know that, right?"_

"_Yeah, Abby and Ziva, McGee. I know, but it's… sometimes I think that's not enough. It's like there's got to be something more out there, you know."_

"_There might be," Gibbs answered as he also settled against the backrest of his couch and Tony felt his eyes on him, so he turned his head, that was still resting on the backrest, towards Gibbs, slightly startled at the expression the guy was sporting at the moment._

"_I'm over forty, Boss. Who would want an overgrown frat boy who can't keep up any decent relationship?"_

"_Don't sell yourself short, DiNozzo."_

"_Easy for you to say," he just sighed in answer. "You've been married four times. And yeah, the last three probably weren't the happiest, but you did find that someone somehow. What if I don't?"_

_Gibbs remained silent for a very long time, just like he always did when someone mentioned Shannon, but Tony didn't feel the need to backpedal for once because Gibbs was still looking right back at him. There were a few emotions that Tony couldn't place flicking over the older guy's face before he had apparently found the right one which Tony easily identified as determination._

"_Maybe you already have."_

"_Don't think so," Tony sighed. "And if you're talking about Wendy again, let me tell you, there's no way we're ever going to get back together."_

_Tony hadn't missed Gibbs' not so subtle attempt to bring the two of them back together earlier in the year, but Wendy really wasn't the one for him. He had learned that the hard way and he had no desire to relive any of that pain ever again._

_A small smile unexpectedly ghosted over Gibbs' face, catching Tony by surprise. He didn't comment on it, however. So they remained silent after that again and Tony somehow wasn't able to avert his eyes from the other guy's. He was still staring intently at him and for a moment Tony thought that the older man had had too much drink, too, but Gibbs seemed, despite the weird expression on his face, like any other day. He felt almost certain that it should freak him out or something, but the panic didn't seem to want to settle in for once. What had the guy meant anyway when he had told him that he maybe had found his person already? He surely wasn't thinking about Ziva or Abby and he hadn't meant Wendy, either. So, who was he missing here? Internally, he went through every woman he had met over the last couple of months but came up empty. He wasn't looking for a fling anyway, he wanted something permanent these days, wanted someone he could feel safe with and someone who would be there for him when times got rough._

_Huh._

_That was weird. He had just listed every little thing that he appreciated in Gibbs. That was really weird, wasn't it? He chanced a glance at said person who was still looking at him as if he was waiting for something. Maybe for the penny to drop? No, Tony was imagining things, wasn't he? And yet, he continued to look right back into those bright blue eyes for a very long time, unable to avert his eyes._

"_You missed somebody before," Gibbs finally broke the poignant silence between them._

"_Huh?"_

"_When you listed the people who care about you, you missed somebody."_

"_Who?" Tony all but whispered, even though he kind of, somehow already knew the answer._

"_Me."_

_Tony just nodded mutely as he stared at the other guy again, feeling something weird spread in his stomach. He wasn't entirely sure what it was exactly, but he did feel shaky all of a sudden. His breath hitched in his throat as Gibbs just kept on looking at him. For a brief moment his eyes flicked towards Tony's lips as if asking for permission and Tony felt himself swallow. Was this really happening? He had to be imagining it. As he was still thinking about the surrealism of it all, Gibbs had already leaned closer and somehow so had Tony. Their noses were nearly touching now and then, without warning, the older man had closed the small gap between them and kissed him._

_And just like that, everything fell into place._

. Flashback .

.

"Of course," Tony said, smiling ever so slightly. "We both freaked out about it the next day, but you know… sometimes things just fit. I guess we were one of those."

Gibbs nodded thoughtfully, furrowing his brow and Tony's heart almost broke all over again as he realized that the older man apparently tried to remember that night three years ago.

"You don't remember, do you?" he asked quietly, desperate to touch him, but didn't dare to.

As Gibbs just shrugged apologetically, his eyes downcast, Tony continued. "No worries, it'll come back, Jethro. In the meantime I'll just remember for both of us, huh?"

Gibbs nodded again, the sad expression still on his face as he crooked his finger, gesturing Tony to come closer. Slightly surprised, Tony did exactly that and then felt his heart pick up pace as Jethro reached out his left hand, letting it hover over Tony's head for a moment. Just as he thought that he might get head-slapped, Gibbs let his hand sink ever so slightly and then affectionately ruffled Tony's hair for a moment. At the touch, Tony felt his heart flutter for a moment and he then let out a breath that felt as if he had been holding it for months. This was all he ever wanted, one touch, one sign that Jethro did care about him even after everything that had happened.

"Yeah, got my hair done yesterday," he finally said only above a whisper, afraid of breaking the moment too soon. "This is what I normally look like. The savaged style was rather something you rocked after you came back from Mexico a couple of years ago."

Jethro looked at him curiously as he let his hand sink back towards the mattress, but Tony didn't care. He would tell him that story sooner or later. In fact, he would tell him everything he ever wanted to know.

It didn't matter that Gibbs still had no recollection about the time he had spent with Tony. It didn't matter that he was still not able to talk or communicate with him properly. All of that didn't matter because he had touched him, he had just touched him.

And for once, Tony was deliriously happy.


	12. Part II Recovering: Progression

_A/N: Hey guys, thank you once again for your awesome reviews! This chapter is slightly shorter than usual, but the flu caught up with me this week and this is the best I could do for now ;) Hope you like it!_

* * *

Chapter Six:_ Progression_

Tony managed to stay in that touch-induced happy bubble for a few more days. He slept better than in months even when he stayed at Jethro's side through the night. There hadn't been much progress since the CafPow! incident but Gibbs was allowing him to touch him again and that was all Tony needed for the time being to get going and be able to believe that things would turn out quite well after all. He kept on telling the older man about everything that would come to his mind and even though Gibbs seemed to enjoy the tidbits of their life together, Tony could also sense the underlying frustration radiating from him. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it had to feel like not remembering anything, not being able to talk or walk. He didn't know how he was supposed to help the other man, though. And while Gibbs had gotten over his fear of touching Tony, he wasn't as interested in being touched by him. Tony could still see the trepidation in his eyes every time he reached out to touch his hand or to ruffle his hair. Gibbs always let him though but he never seemed quite comfortable with it, causing Tony to feel uncomfortable, too, to a degree that he sometimes even refrained from doing so altogether. He told himself repeatedly that it didn't have to mean anything, that it was just a side-effect of Gibbs' own frustration and that it wasn't about him particularly. He never talked to him about it, either. Maybe he should have, but he wasn't willing to leave his happy bubble completely just yet.

.

As Tony strolled into the hospital one Tuesday evening, he was stopped by a nurse who had been in charge of Gibbs a couple of times before. Curious as to why she would want to talk to Tony alone, he followed her down the hallway into a deserted room.

"I'm sure you have noticed," she started bluntly and straight-forwardly, "that Agent Gibbs seems to have gotten a little impatient regarding his recovery. Don't worry, his progress is as fast as can be expected, but Agent Gibbs doesn't quite seem to agree."

"Yeah," Tony let out a laugh. "I'd take it as a good sign, though. He's the most impatient person you'll ever meet, trust me."

"That's good to know," Nurse Robyn answered, a slight smile on her face. "The reason I wanted to talk to you is the following: I imagine that part of his frustration stems from the fact that he has seen nothing but his room for weeks now. Do you think you could take him out for a walk? We offered before but he refuses to get into a wheelchair and we thought that maybe someone he knows would have more success in persuading him."

"I can try," Tony answered slowly. "But he is pretty set in his ways. He has never done things he didn't want to."

"Yeah, I get that about him even if he doesn't talk," Robyn laughed good-heartedly. "But you'll try, right?"

"Definitely."

.

A couple of minutes later, Tony stepped into the room to see Jethro sit on his bed, glaring at this own legs. Barely holding himself back in order not to touch him, Tony sat down on the edge of the mattress and just watched the guy for a moment. After a minute or two, Gibbs finally looked away from his legs to stare at Tony instead. He wasn't smiling for once, as he had a deep frown on his face and looked rather miserable.

"Hey," Tony finally said, "you okay?"

Gibbs just shrugged, looking oddly lost and Tony felt his own heart breaking over the other man's apparent sadness and frustration.

"Hey," Tony repeated himself. "Everything will be okay. Look at how far you've already come. Just have a little patience."

Gibbs snorted indignantly as he raised an eyebrow at Tony and for a moment the younger man was almost sure that nothing had indeed changed. This was the old Gibbs all right, this was exactly what he loved about the other man. But there was also another thing that had made him fall in love with him all those years ago.

"Listen, Jethro. Don't let your frustration get into your way, okay? Or your pride. You need help, so let me and the others help you. And you need to get out of here, sooner or later, you'll need to. And you were never one to wait, trust me. If you are one thing, it's a fighter. Don't let it get you down."

Gibbs was still glaring at Tony, but it had subsided a tiny little bit, so the younger man swallowed once before he continued with his little pep talk.

"The nurse told me you didn't want to go outside. Why's that?"

Impassively, Gibbs looked at Tony for a long moment before he averted his glance and Tony didn't even need to follow it to know that he was glaring at his own legs again.

"So what you can't walk just yet? What does it matter?"

Again, Gibbs snorted, but Tony wouldn't be knocked off course this time. He had, after all, sensed that something was gnawing away at his partner for quite some time now.

"Stop with the false sense of pride, Jethro. Nobody cares that you can't walk just yet. You hear me? Nobody. And come on, it's just one bout around the park out front. No one except for me will even see you. So what do you say? One try?"

He continued to stare at Gibbs until he finally looked up again and then nodded ever so slightly. Tony gave him a broad smile and then jumped up and all but ran out the room to see where he'd get the wheelchair.

.

Half an hour later, with a lot of grumbling from Gibbs and a lot of encouraging words from Tony, they finally were outside. Gibbs had allowed Tony to push his chair after a few half-hearted attempts to push it himself. He was still getting tired easily these days, so he had relented after all. The younger man remained quiet for the most part as he watched Gibbs look at his surroundings. First he had seemed rather wary, but that had changed slowly but steadily. He was now looking around animatedly, taking in as much as he could and Tony realized with quite some satisfaction that there was little to see of his earlier frustration with himself anymore.

"See this isn't so bad, is it now, Boss?" Tony said a little while later as they had just turned around to get back inside as it was slowly getting a little cold outside as the day got older.

Gibbs just shook his head and shrugged once, but there was a slight smile playing on his lips and that was really enough for Tony to know that he had been right in trying to persuade him to go outside. If anything, it would just show him that there were other things in this world than the four walls of his room. Just as they were just about to go back inside, Gibbs held up a hand, signaling him to stop for a moment, so Tony did exactly that.

"What's up?" he asked quietly as he squatted down next to him to see what he was looking at.

Once again, Gibbs just shrugged as he gestured around aimlessly for a moment before he locked eyes with the younger man.

"You're welcome," he whispered as he stared back at him for what seemed to be a very long time.

Then, just as his feet were starting to feel numb, Gibbs reached out his left hand and brought it to Tony's cheek. He felt his heartbeat pick up pace and his cheeks starting to flush ever so slightly, but he didn't avert his glance once. He leaned into the touch, however, feeling the warmth the other man was providing and for a moment it seemed like nothing had ever happened. It was like there was only the two of them on the planet and Tony wouldn't have minded if they'd stayed like that forever. He didn't know what exactly was happening, but for the first time since Gibbs had woken up from his coma, it was like this was really _Gibbs_ looking at him. So he just stared back at him, hoping that Jethro would find whatever he was searching for in his eyes.

They finally broke their eye contact when Jethro started to shiver ever so slightly in the cold fall air, so Tony hurried to get them back inside, the butterflies still fluttering in his stomach.

.

Whatever might have happened during that walk outside that day, it did help Jethro in the days and weeks that followed. Whenever Tony visited him after work, he was greeted with a soft smile again and while it was oddly un-Gibbs of him, Tony accepted it without a second thought. Jethro might not remember loving him, might not remember much of anything, but he did know that Tony was there for him no matter what, he had proved that over the last couple of months. And as if that walk and Tony's insistence had been a boost of moral, Jethro had started to work even harder. Sometimes Tony was reminded of a much younger version of Gibbs. He was suddenly obsessed to get better, was so obsessed with the one thing that it had striking similarities to the time he had hunted down Ari. Tony wasn't quite sure whether it was a good thing to be that focused on one thing, but Gibbs did indeed seem happier than before, so he let him be, knowing that he'd be there if it came to a fallout of some sort and catch him – just like he had always done.

.

A couple of weeks later, Tony dragged himself down the hallway towards Jethro's room. It was already after nine o'clock at night and they had just closed their recent cold case that had turned hot. He was proud of his team that they had caught the bastard that had killed his own wife and two kids over six years ago. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins from the chase and he suddenly realized that he did miss stuff like that at work. Maybe it was time to get off the cold cases after all. Remorse had already made itself perceivable more than once that he was holding back both Ziva and McGee, but they had assured him that they didn't mind at all as long as it helped Tony take care of Gibbs.

But maybe it was time to go back into their normal working routing after all.

Slightly shaking his head, Tony let himself in quietly in case the older man was already asleep and then let out a yelp as he turned around to see Jethro sitting on his bed, his feet dangling down from it.

"God, you scared the hell out of me," he finally pressed out, trying to get his heartbeat under control as he watched Gibbs just grin at him.

"Don't be that smug, you hear me?" he joked as he dropped his bag onto the ground. "I'll get you back for that someday."

Again, Gibbs just smirked, causing Tony's stomach to give a jolt because this, like so many things over the last couple of weeks, just seemed so like Gibbs that it almost hurt.

"What are you doing up anyway?" he finally asked.

The older man just continued to look at him for a moment before he made a few gestures with his hands. Tony had taken lessons in sign language from Abby over the last couple of weeks and had gotten pretty good at it, but he still had troubles following Jethro from time to time because his hands were still rather shaky and uncoordinated, making it hard to read sometimes. This time, however, his message was pretty clear.

"You wanted to surprise me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "With what?"

Gibbs held up one finger, indicating him to wait for a moment, so Tony did, watching the other guy intently. He was smiling broadly at him and his eyes were slightly brighter than usual, too. Tony was still looking at his face as Gibbs moved again, the palms of his hands pressing into the mattress under him as he pushed himself up so that he was standing up on rather shaky legs. And Tony still hadn't moved, too stunned to do anything but stare at the older man, when Gibbs had pushed himself away from the bed and had grabbed a cane with his left hand.

"Gibbs!" Tony finally exclaimed, blinking furiously. "When did this happen all of a sudden?"

The older man shrugged and was holding on to the cane so tightly that his knuckles were already turning white, but he didn't seem to care as he carefully made a step forwards.

"When did you… how did you…" Tony stammered, still frozen on his spot. "That's awesome, Jethro."

His partner just nodded almost feverishly as he took another shaky step forwards. Tony noticed his left foot dragging a bit, but little did it matter at the moment. Jethro was walking, was standing up without help and the bastard hadn't even bothered to tell him about his progress. This was just so… well, Gibbs.

"I'm so happy for you," Tony finally blurted out as he stepped forward.

Jethro, in the meantime, had walked backwards again, shakier than before as he eased himself back onto the bed, but not without a radiant smile on his face. 'Surprise' he signed again and Tony couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"You bastard," he chuckled as he sat down next to him and without thinking took the other guy's hand. "You almost gave me a heart attack here."

Gibbs remained unmoving and just continued to stare at Tony, his blue eyes impossibly bright before he shortly squeezed Tony's hand and then let it go. But it hardly mattered at that moment. In fact, Tony didn't think that anything did really matter right then.

Because for once, Jethro seemed happy and for Tony that was enough.


	13. Part II Recovering: Rendition

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews!_

* * *

Chapter Seven:_ Rendition_

It was the silence that was slowly but steadily driving Tony crazy. He should have been used to it by now, but somehow it hadn't been quite that oppressing than over those last couple of days. He tried his best to break that silence as best as he could but he was tired of hearing his own voice when all he wanted to hear was Jethro's. Learning sign language and being able to communicate with him on a basic level had been a relief, but it just wasn't the same and little did it help to fill the emptiness inside of Tony. He had tried to talk to Abby about it but she didn't know how to console him either. He'll just have to wait for things to change, he knew that, too, but his patience was wearing thin these days. He had waited for so long now that it felt rather stupid to lose to impatience now when Jethro was doing so remarkably better. And yet he simply couldn't help it. He wasn't even sure whether he really remembered how Gibbs' voice had sounded like anymore and it freaked him out. It was like the man he visited every single day, while having regained most of his mobility again and showing signs of his old traits, was only an echo of his former self. Tony had felt bad about thinking like that until he realized that he was an echo of his own self, too. He'd be deliriously happy one day just to be sick at heart the next and he had no idea how to get out of these funks. He didn't know whether he was actually depressed or not and he wouldn't let himself think too much about it. It would all go away once all of the other stuff would be over, too, he was sure about that. But only god knew when that would be.

Jethro had made progress in almost all areas except for the talking part and yet it didn't seem enough – not for Tony who felt himself get more restless with any day and not for Gibbs himself, either. He was able to eat on his own again, as his hands weren't all that shaky anymore and he had even learned how to write down his own name. He was also able to walk very short distances alone with only the help of the cane. His left leg still wasn't very cooperative and would probably never regain all its former strength, but that was a price that both Tony and Gibbs would gladly pay in exchange of being alive. And Tony was thankful for all of that, he really was, but it was the echoes of their former life that threatened to eat him up alive, causing Gibbs to repeatedly ask him if he was alright. He always answered with a fake smile and a 'yes' because he was fine after all. It wasn't him who had to endure therapy session after therapy session. He had no clue whether or not Gibbs really bought it, but he never followed up on his inquiry and that was enough for Tony to be able to compose himself every time he would step into the other man's room and be as positive as he could.

He might be fooling Gibbs to a certain degree, but he certainly wasn't able to fool his team. Ziva and McGee had frequently tried to distract him, asking him out for a game of pool or a movie, but he had always declined. He felt bad enough growing impatient with Gibbs; he wouldn't let him stay alone at the hospital more than strictly necessary. McGee and Ziva had understood, but Tony could see the concern in their eyes and the looks they shared whenever they thought he wasn't looking their way. Abby and Ducky, in a way, were even worse. While the other two did at least pretend to want to go out for other reasons than to cheer him up, the ME and the Goth would bluntly ask him if he was alright and whether they could help him. He had almost said yes, but then he realized that there was no way that they actually could help. They couldn't make Jethro remember more than the fragments he did recall and they couldn't miraculously make him talk, either. So he just shook his head and claimed that he was okay and could handle the situation just fine.

Sometimes he was even able to fool himself into believing that he was okay, that he was not internally falling apart over this. He had put all his energy into being there for Gibbs. He didn't regret one bit of it, not by a long shot, but sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't hindering the other guy from making more progress. What if his endless stories and endless photos and his hovering over the other man did more bad than good? And what if he really did lose himself over it as Jackson had warned him such a long time ago? But he had come to realize that it simply didn't matter. He couldn't help himself. He wouldn't not come to visit the guy every day, he wouldn't not tell him about their time together and he wouldn't not let himself down in giving in to his sheer exhaustion. It was as simple as that.

.

It was a day after Gibbs and Tony had taken a slow walk around the park outside the hospital for the first time that the younger man was called into the director's office first thing in the morning. Casting a rather fearful glance at both Ziva and McGee, who just shrugged, Tony slowly made his way upstairs, thinking about what he had done wrong this time. He came up empty, though. But that made the sick sensation in his stomach even worse.

"Come on in, DiNozzo," Vance's voice traveled through the door as Tony knocked.

"You wanted to talk to me, Director?" Tony asked as he sat down in front of the other man's desk.

"Indeed, I did, Agent DiNozzo," Vance replied with a slight smile on his lips, which in return caused Tony to calm down a bit. "How is Gibbs doing these days?"

"Uh," Tony answered hesitatingly and unsure. "He's fine mostly. He's stable, there have been no setbacks to speak of and he's managed to walk short distances by now."

"That's good to hear," the director answered, still smiling at him. "Do you think I could drop by some time?"

"Yeah," Tony nodded. "It's not like he will recognize you or anything, but I'm sure he'd appreciate seeing something else than my face all day long."

Letting out a laugh, Vance nodded again before he averted his gaze from Tony to look at a file on his desk instead and Tony realized that it was his.

"Do you like cold cases, DiNozzo?" the older man finally continued to talk.

"Uh," Tony once again wasn't quite sure how to answer it, so he decided to go with the truth for once. "They're all right. They will never live up to the thrill of a new one, but I do like the satisfaction to be able to give some families closure after so many years when we solve one."

"So, you're saying, you do miss the hot cases?"

"Yeah, I mean I think so," Tony slowly replied, not sure what Vance was zeroing in on.

"Okay. The thing is, DiNozzo," Vance kept on talking, his eyes resting on Tony once again. "I'd like you to consider being the full-time lead of your team and work on hot cases again. Please let me finish first," he hurried to say when Tony had opened his mouth to contradict him. "This does not mean that I think Gibbs won't be coming back or anything. But right now I need a full team on those cases and as much as I appreciate the work Agent Balboa's team has done these last couple of months, we are missing a second MCRT team and the agency could certainly use your eyes out there again. You wouldn't be assigned a new team member because I know you and Agents David and McGee would never allow it, but think about the possibility to go back into the field, will you? You have a week to decide what to do and let me assure that it won't be a set-back in your career if you decide to stay on the cold cases. I understand your situation, DiNozzo."

Tony stared at him for a few moments, feeling his heart beat furiously in his chest. He knew that he should take the week to decide about it, knew that he should talk to Ziva and Tim about it and he knew that he should check with Gibbs first and still he heard himself reply only after a few more seconds.

"We'll do it."

"Sorry?" Vance replied, obviously taken aback by the quick answer.

"We'll do it," Tony repeated, feeling a smile spread on his face. "I want to do it."

"Don't you want to talk with your folks first?"

"No, ultimately it's my decision to make. Ziva and McGee will appreciate it because they are field agents after all and they miss it, even if they don't say it out loud. As for Gibbs," Tony paused for a moment, feeling something lock into place inside of him. "I have done everything I could and will continue to do so, but I think Gibbs would want me to go out there again, catch the bad guys because that it what he was… is all about. So, I've made my decision, we'll do it."

"Okay, then," Vance said as he stood up and reached out his hand to shake Tony's. "You'll be back in business as of Monday, then. Appreciate it."

"Me too," Tony replied quietly, knowing that despite his dislike for the guy, he had helped him out tremendously over the last weeks and months. "Thanks."

"It's fine, Tony," the director just answered and nodded at him.

Tony did the same and then left the office to tell Ziva and McGee about it all.

.

Abby had strictly been against them going out into the field again because she didn't like them to be in danger or because Tony was abandoning Gibbs. She wouldn't tell, but Tony had the suspicion that it was the latter. He hadn't let himself be knocked off course, though, because McGee and Ziva had almost been ecstatic about going out there again. He knew that he had made the right decision. Even Gibbs had simply nodded his understanding and had waved off Tony's concern of leaving him alone too much. Deep down, Tony liked to think that Gibbs actually did remember what it felt like rushing after a perp, what it felt like bringing a murderer down and that he therefore understood Tony's decision. At least, he hadn't been mad at him, had only patted his shoulder and given him a soft smile that had somehow caused something in Tony's stomach to flutter. Maybe it was alright with him and maybe he knew that Tony had slowly been going crazy and needed the distraction. Or perhaps he wondered if a little break from the younger man would do his progress some good, too. Whatever the reasons for his acceptance had been, Tony was glad that he had given his okay. It wasn't like he wanted to get away from the grayness of the hospital and from Gibbs, but he knew that he had to in order to find his inner equilibrium again. Gibbs, somehow, had maybe realized it, too, and had let him do it and Tony was beyond thankful for that.

.

Tony was still visiting Gibbs every night and every time he could get away from the office. Whenever he couldn't, he found himself missing the other guy again. He constantly called him and talked to him, even though he didn't get more than a snort or a grunt in return, but sometimes it was even enough to only hear him breathing on the other end.

The cases, too, had helped him to get out of his headspace for the most part. He wasn't that moody anymore and he wasn't brooding over every little step he would take. Leading the team had come just as natural as it had all those years previously during Gibbs' sabbatical to Mexico, with the only difference that this time McGee and Ziva actually followed without any complaint at all. Tony had told Gibbs about it, too, and the older man had nodded, his eyes somehow lighting up with something that the younger man couldn't identify and the older guy didn't comment – or rather sign – on. He had signed to him, however, that he was proud of him as Tony had told him about their latest case three weeks into his return. Tony had stared at him for what must have been a really long time and for once Gibbs hadn't flinched or looked away from him, instead had steadily looked right back into Tony's eyes. The younger man had had no clue what it had meant, but he had had trouble holding back his tears because Gibbs never or rarely used to tell him that he was proud and even though, this Gibbs was just an echo of the old version, it was somehow enough for Tony to feel the warmth spread inside of him.

.

Tony tiredly rubbed his eyes as he opened the door to Jethro's room after an exhausting six-day-chase of the murderer of a retired lieutenant early on a Friday afternoon. Secretly, he wished that he could just drop down onto the couch in their living room and sleep for three days straight, but he would never do that. Visiting Gibbs was far more important than sleep, especially when he hadn't seen the guy in almost a week. Remorse had made itself perceivably a couple of times, but Abby as well as Palmer and Ducky had assured him that Gibbs had claimed it was all well when they had visited him that week. Slightly pacified by that, Tony entered the room and then felt his heart miss a beat when the bed was unoccupied. For a moment, he felt panic rise inside of him before he cast a quick glance around the room and saw Jethro sitting on a chair and staring out the window with such intensity that he hadn't even heard Tony enter. Smiling slightly, Tony dropped his bag and coat on his usual chair, effectively pulling Gibbs out of his thoughts.

"Hey," Tony said, his fatigue somehow diminishing as he saw the happy expression on the other man's face. "We finally caught the guy. I swear, if we hadn't, Ziva would have killed someone with her knives or paperclips or whatever. Anyway, it's really great we got the guy now and to top that off, we got the whole weekend to ourselves, Jethro."

Gibbs gave him a rather broad smile at that and was about to get up, but Tony waved him down in an instant as he went over to the sink to wash his hands.

"Stay put if you don't mind. I'm too tired to do anything right now."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Tony saw Jethro nod and give him a slight smile again and he once again realized how much he had missed the guy over the last couple of days. But maybe that was exactly what he had needed. Maybe he had needed the distance to appreciate the other guy's progress and everything about him basically again. So, Tony returned the smile and then reached for the towel to dry off his hands.

"So, how are you anyway?" he asked, looking at himself in the reflection of the mirror, taking in his tired-looking face.

"'m fine," Gibbs mumbled from behind and Tony nodded.

"That's gr…" he trailed off, watching his own eyes widen in shock as the realization hit him with full speed.

Gibbs had mumbled. Gibbs had _mumbled_. He hadn't imagined that, had he?

"You're fine?" he asked as he turned around, his heart missing two or three beats and his eyes fogging up.

"'m fine," Gibbs replied once again, more clearly this time and with a wide smile on his face.

"You… I…," Tony stuttered, not knowing what to say as he let the towel drop to the ground and rushed towards the older man who was still sitting there on his chair as if nothing monumental had just happened in this very room.

Tony stared at him for a short moment before he all but flung himself on the other guy, engaging him in a tight embrace. Gibbs' arms came around him automatically as Tony felt the first of his tears trickle from his eyes. He had no idea how long he stayed like that, hanging on to the other man for dear life, feeling like his whole world had finally come together again. He was still lost for words when he let go of him again, ignoring the way Gibbs had stiffened up for a moment when he had first embraced him.

"You said something, I can't believe it. And you're fine… do you have any idea how big that is? Of course you do. Sorry," Tony started to ramble after a moment of silence in which he had scrubbed away the tears from his face. "I'm just so… this is so awesome for you. We've been waiting for this for so long now and now I don't…"

"Toh-nee," Gibbs interrupted his rant with a feeble attempt to speak his name, but it worked because it did manage to render the younger man speechless again.

"God, Gibbs," Tony said after a little while, feeling the warmth of the other man's word spread within him as he realized how important that moment was for him, for Gibbs, for both of them. "I can't tell you how much I love you right now."

* * *

_A/N: That's it for Part II. I hope you liked it so far and a review on your way out would be really great, too! ;)_


	14. Part III Falling: Explanation

_A/N: Wow... seriously wow. I'm still floored looking at all the reviews I got for the last chapter. I'm so psyched you liked it that much! Thanks so much, seriously!_

_So, here we go with Part III... it's extra long, too ;)  
_

* * *

**Part III Falling**

Chapter One:_ Explanation_

"Can you imagine McGee's face when I told him that it was all fake? I honestly think that he was internally deciding between killing both Ziva and me and dig himself a hole to disappear into it for all times to come. You really should have seen it," Tony chuckled as he told Gibbs about the latest prank he had pulled on the younger agent a few weeks later.

Gibbs in the meantime was just shaking his head, but couldn't quite suppress the slight smile on his lips. Tony knew that he found it amusing even without the smirk because his blue eyes always gave him away these days. The younger man loved that fact because it was so much easier for him to gauge the other guy's moods.

"He… always so…" Gibbs slowly said then, struggling for every single word like every time he spoke. "Suscessable?"

Tony tried to hold back the sigh at the mixed-up word. Sometimes, Gibbs was still having trouble to find the right word and it happened quite a lot that he got two words mixed up in his mind. It wasn't uncommon in cases such as his as Ducky had assured them but Tony didn't really mind all that much anyway. The important thing was that the other man was talking coherently again and more and more every day. So he just gave him a smile, trying to figure out what he had wanted to tell him this time.

"Susceptible, you mean?" As he saw Gibbs nod, he continued. "I thought it had gotten better by now, but sometimes he's just too easy, you know. But he knows by now that we're not trying to put him down, he knows his place and that we all care for him."

"That… is… good," Gibbs replied even slower than before and then yawned widely.

"You getting tired?" Tony asked, realizing that it was getting rather late. "Wanna go back inside?"

Gibbs once again nodded and Tony gently coaxed the older man to sit down in the wheel chair, so that they could get out of the backyard of the hospital as quickly as possible. By the time he had pushed him into his room, Gibbs was sound asleep and Tony winced sympathetically as he woke him up again, just to send him straight to bed. Grudgingly, Gibbs followed his orders and was out like a light about a minute later.

Tony settled down in his usual chair, his feet propped up on another one as he watched Jethro sleep. Today had been a good day. He had been off work, as it was Sunday, and had spent all day long with the other man. They had taken a stroll through the park, just talking about nothing in particular, generally just enjoying the fact that they could talk to each other again. Gibbs had been in a good mood which was not to take for granted these days and Tony had behaved accordingly, telling him about god knows what. Gibbs seemed to enjoy it and had actually held Tony's hand for a short moment while they had been sitting on a bench, sending an unexpected shiver down the younger man's spine at the touch. He hadn't commented on it, but he took it as a sign that maybe Gibbs wasn't all that reluctant of touching him anymore. Their relationship had changed ever so slightly ever since Gibbs had managed to talk again. There wasn't any big change or anything, but it seemed like Gibbs was more, well, Gibbs every time he opened his mouth and Tony would take it as long as it meant getting back the other guy for good.

So, things had gone really well that day and Tony was just about to lean back and maybe catch some sleep for himself, as a gentle knock on the door interrupted his plans. One of Jethro's doctors stuck his head in at the door.

"Mr. DiNozzo, can I talk to you for a second?"

Tony just nodded and quietly got up and followed the doctor into his office. He had been there quite a few times, especially at the beginning of Jethro's stay there, but his visits had gotten less frequent over the last couple of weeks as Gibbs' health had improved.

"Mr. DiNozzo," the doc started again, but was interrupted by the other man in an instant.

"Tony. My father's Mr. DiNozzo."

"Alright then, Tony, the reason I wanted to talk to you is a quite positive one, I suppose. I've talked to Dr. Martin over at Bethesda as well as to your friend Dr. Mallard over the last couple of days and we have come to the conclusion that Mr. Gibbs will be able to go home in two to three weeks. He still will have to come in for his therapies as an outpatient, but we are certain that he doesn't need to stay here for much longer."

"Wow," Tony pressed out, feeling slightly light-headed at the prospect of taking Jethro home. "That's… great. Will he… I mean, will he need someone to stay home with him?"

"I'm afraid I don't have an answer to that. You will have to see. However, Mr. Gibbs has managed to get around on his own during the days here pretty well. I suggest you to stay with him until he's settled, but after that I don't see a reason for him not to stay alone at home for a couple of hours. His progress has been remarkable these last couple of weeks."

"Okay," Tony smiled at him, feeling his pulse pick up pace as he stood up and shook the doctor's hand. "I'll see what I can do. Thanks."

"You're very welcome."

.

The next day around lunchtime, Tony called down into Autopsy to ask Ducky for lunch. He hadn't told anyone about the fact that Gibbs would soon be coming home, yet, as he hadn't actually grasped the news himself. He wanted to talk to Ducky first to be able to clear his head and then tackle any kind of problem that might come up in the course.

Ducky had opted to go to a Greek restaurant and Tony had agreed, as he wasn't sure whether he actually wanted to eat at all.

"So, what is on your mind, Anthony?" Ducky asked straight-forwardly as soon as they had placed their orders.

"Why didn't you tell me they were thinking about letting Gibbs go home?" Tony asked the first thing that came to his mind.

"Oh, are they? I was merely asked my opinion on Gibbs' health a week ago. I didn't know that they were thinking about it."

"Okay," Tony answered slowly, taking a sip from his coke. "But do you think it's the right thing to do?"

"I certainly believe so, my dear Anthony. I think it might be better for Jethro to be in a familiar environment and you never know, maybe it will spark one memory or another."

"Okay," Tony said slowly again, feeling a little bit better now that he had Ducky's confirmation. "Dr. Jenkins said that Gibbs could be home in two or three weeks. I guess I'll take a week or so off to help him get settled, right? I mean… I don't know."

"Are you alright?" Ducky inquired, his eyes piercing Tony's for a moment as the younger man nodded.

"Yeah, I am. I'm just a bit… overwhelmed, I guess," he confessed. "As much as I wanted him to come home, it's still kind of weird knowing that he actually will be there a few weeks from now, you know? I have no clue, what I'm supposed to do to be honest. What do I have to do, Ducky?"

"No worries," Ducky gave him a slight smile. "I'll make sure to help you as much as I can. First thing you have to do is to make sure that Jethro actually does want to go home. I'm sure he will, as he has never quite liked hospitals, but you have to give him the choice."

Tony nodded thoughtfully and then waited until the waiter disappeared again after bringing them their plates. He picked at his food, trying to imagine what he would do if Gibbs didn't want to come home to him. He knew that it was ridiculous, but what if he didn't? What if the not letting touch him thing came into this decision, too? Tony determinedly shook his head. He wouldn't let himself go crazy over a possibility just yet. He'd worry about it when the time came.

"Then," Ducky interrupted his thoughts. "I guess you'll have to change things in the house. Make everything accessible to Jethro. Your bedroom is on the second floor if I remember correctly?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, you might consider the possibility to move it downstairs. As you very well know, Jethro's left leg isn't exactly up for more than a few steps at a time. It might make things easier for him to move around the house."

"Yeah," Tony replied thoughtfully. "There's no room, though."

"I thought there was a spare room down there?"

"Well," Tony started, absent-mindedly drinking from his coke again, his heart suddenly aching ever so slightly. "That's Kelly's old room. Jethro has never used it again. All her stuff's still in there in boxes."

"Oh dear," Ducky put down his fork and knife and ran a hand over his mouth.

"Yeah," Tony just replied, feeling sad all of a sudden, very similar to the time when he had tried to put one of his own moving boxes in there.

He would never forget the look on Jethro's face at the suggestion, the sadness that had crossed his eyes as he had simply shook his head and had gone down into the basement. Tony had let him be for a while before he followed him, meaning to apologize, but was met with a tight hug instead, a whispered 'I love you' and a story about how Shannon and he had painted that room before Kelly was even born. They never talked about using the room ever again afterwards and Tony had accepted it without a second thought. This was Jethro's own little corner of the world and he wouldn't disturb it when Jethro so obviously didn't want him to. Now, though, it seemed as if he didn't have a choice.

"Anthony?" Ducky raised him from his memories, his voice soft. "Does Jethro know about his family?"

Tony stared at him for a moment before he subtly shook his head. "I couldn't tell him. I wanted to, but how do you tell a guy something like that?"

"I understand. But you will have to, I'm afraid, before he comes home."

"I know. God, I know."

"You want me to come with you?"

Tony looked at the old ME for a very long time as he tried to figure out whether or not he wanted him to be there before he finally shook his head.

"Appreciate the offer, but I think I'll have to do it alone."

"Very well, I'll be there if you need me, though."

"I know, Ducky, thanks."

.

Tony sighed as he stepped into Jethro's room a day later, seeing the other man sitting on the chair by the window, staring out into the rainy afternoon. The weather couldn't have been more similar to Tony's inner life at the moment. He still hadn't told his partner that he would be able to home and he hadn't dared to talk about Shannon or Kelly, either, but he knew that tonight was the night to do it. There was no other choice and while his heart threatened to stop due to exhaustion, as it had been beating much faster than usual all day long, he knew that he would have to tell him. He still had no idea how to approach the subject or how the older man would react to it. He had seen him once as he had woken up from the coma all those years ago and had remembered the pain of losing his girls too freshly. It had almost broken Tony's heart along with his own back then and Tony knew that it wasn't likely to go over better now. Steeling himself, he sat down opposite of Jethro, who had finally averted his glance from the trees outside to look at him curiously as to why he hadn't said anything just yet.

"How are you?" Tony finally started, realizing that his voice was very quiet and somewhat shaky.

"Fine," Jethro replied equally quiet but without his usual drawl. "You?"

"I'm okay," Tony lied easily as he tried to smile at the older man, who was still looking at him with faint curiosity on his face. "Listen, I've got some big news for you. I talked to Dr. Jenkins and he thinks that it's time for you to go home."

He watched Gibbs for a moment and felt his heart actually skip a beat as the older man's face split into a smile.

"Go home?" he said after a little while.

"Yeah, go home," Tony reassured him. "To our house. You'll still have to come here or have someone come over for therapy sessions and all, but they think you're ready to leave this place behind."

Gibbs remained silent at that, the smile still on his lips as he scrutinized Tony's face for a long time as if trying to figure out something.

"You," he slowly started after a few minutes. "Not… want me… go… home."

"What?" Tony all but cried out as he saw the misery in Gibbs' eyes all of a sudden. "No! What gives you that idea? I'm psyched that I get to take you with me."

"No," Gibbs shook his head, letting his left hand run through his hair rather shakily. "Look… sad."

The younger man stared at him frozen in terror as he saw the obvious hurt in the other man's expression. It broke his heart to see him like that. He felt tears threaten to escape his eyes as he leaned over the table to reach for Gibbs' hand and this time, almost miraculously, the older man let him take them.

"God no, Jethro. I can't even begin to tell you how glad I am that you're able to come home with me. Really, I haven't been that happy in a very, very long time. Do you believe me?"

Slowly, Gibbs nodded, his eyes locking into Tony's again. His brows were still furrowed, though, and Tony boldly let go of one of Jethro's hands to softly run his own over the older man's cheek for a moment. To his utter surprise, he actually leaned into his touch for the first time since he woke up and he felt a soft shiver run down his spine. Tony felt something inside him lock into place and something warm spread in his stomach as he savored in the touch for a moment, trying to transfer the soothing energy into his next move. Jethro, however, beat him to talking.

"Why sad?" he asked, his voice so quiet now that Tony involuntarily leaned a little closer towards him.

"You know I love you, right?" he started, letting out a sigh and continued as Gibbs gave half a nod and half a shrug at his question. "And trust me, I didn't mean to keep anything from you. I just… it's really hard, okay? But there's something I need to tell you. Something really important."

Tony stopped for a moment as he reached for his wallet and pulled out a picture to hand it over to his partner who took it with a frown on his face. It was the very same picture that was sitting on the mantelpiece in their living room with Jethro and Shannon in it, both having an arm around their daughter. Tony intently watched Gibbs' face for any kind of reaction, but was only met with a frown once again and obvious incomprehension. He had hoped that the picture would remind Gibbs of something, anything to make it easier to explain, but apparently he had no such luck. When Gibbs finally looked up at him again, his eyes brighter than usual, Tony sighed again and took one of his hands again.

"You don't remember them, do you?"

Gibbs just shook his head as he stared back at Tony, who gulped audibly before he continued.

"I should've told you about them before. I'm sorry I didn't, but like I've already said, this is… just hard. Before you met me, before you started to even work for NCIS, you were married. You've met Shannon in your hometown and fell in love with her," Tony stopped for a moment, wiping away the tears from his eyes before they could run down his cheeks before he quietly continued, never once averting his eyes from Jethro's. "You had a beautiful daughter, Kelly. But then… god, I'm so sorry… they got killed in a car accident. Or well, it wasn't an accident per se. They were under NIS detail because Shannon wanted to testify against someone and they wanted her dead. You were overseas in Kuwait with the Marines at the time. I'm so sorry, Jethro."

Gibbs nodded ever so slightly as he let go of Tony's hand to run a shaky thumb over the picture he was still clutching in his other hand. They remained silent for a very long time and Tony almost desperately tried to read the expression on the other man's face but wasn't able to. The guy's eyes never strayed away from the photograph in his hands and Tony couldn't bring himself to interrupt his thoughts. So he just sat there, waiting for the other man to finally talk to him again.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Jethro looked up at him, his eyes almost expressionless as he just continued to stare at him, never saying a single word.

"Is there anything I can do?" Tony asked in the end, unable to stand the poignant silence any longer. "I mean that – anything."

For a moment, Gibbs didn't speak and didn't move before he finally shook his head ever so slightly.

"Can I," he finally spoke up, slightly slurring as if he was tired all of a sudden. "Be alone… tonight?"

Tony stared at him, trying to swallow down his desperation and to keep his tears from falling at the request. He felt his heart break for the second time that day, but he wouldn't let it show. He would stay strong for the other guy, just this once. So he just nodded, trying not to let the hurt show.

"Of course."

.

When Tony walked into Jethro's room the next morning, he had no clue, how he had survived the night. He had gone home after Gibbs' request and had tried to sleep on the couch in their living room, but had soon given up on that as his thoughts wouldn't let him rest. He had finally gone down into the basement for the very first time in months, breaking out the bourbon and had taken a sip from the alcohol. He had hoped that it would help him forget, that it would help him connect better to the other man, but in the end he had had to realize that it had only made it worse. He hadn't even been sure why he was hurting the way he did. It had been Gibbs' right wanting to be alone after everything that Tony had told him and yet he felt like hadn't done enough to make him understand. What exactly, he wasn't entirely sure of. So he had just lain under the half-built boat on the floor of the basement, letting his tears fall freely as he wished that he could turn back time to when everything had still been alright.

As he closed the door behind him and chanced a glance at Jethro, he was surprised that the guy seemed oddly rested. He was still sitting in his bed, but he was looking at him with a weird kind of fondness which suddenly confused Tony to no end. He slowly sat down next to the other man's bed, realizing that the guy was once again clutching the picture of him, Shannon and Kelly in his hand. They remained silent for a little while, looking into each other's eyes before Gibbs finally started to talk.

"Why you tell me?"

"It's your family, you had a right to know," Tony replied with a shrug, feeling the uneasiness settle in again.

"No," Gibbs slowly shook his head. "Why… now?"

"Oh," Tony reluctantly replied, realizing what exactly the other guy was asking. "The thing is… when you come home in two weeks, well, I hope that you will come home with me?" At Gibbs' nod and feeling his heart skip a relieved beat, he continued more confident than before. "When you come home… we'll have to change some stuff around the house to make it easier for you to… you know live there. And we used to have our bedroom upstairs, but Ducky thought that it might be wiser if we moved it to ground-floor. Problem is… ah hell… there's only one room there we could use and that's your daughter's old room. And well, you never wanted to change it since she… died. Her stuff is still in there in boxes."

Gibbs' eyebrows rose at that before he looked down at the picture again and then subtly shook his head.

"I didn't want to make that kind of decision without you knowing. That's why I told you. And once again, I'm so sorry that I haven't told you before."

"'s okay," Gibbs mumbled, looking up at him again. "Understand."

Tony gave him a slight smile, but remained silent, waiting for the other man to start talking again.

"We need… room?" he finally did him the favor, raising an eyebrow at him again.

"I'm afraid we do. I don't want you to have to climb the stairs every time you need anything. I'd get it if you don't want to do it, it's your choice, but it'd be more prudent, I guess."

"Okay," Gibbs slowly answered. "Sleep there."

"You want me to change the rooms?" Tony asked, feeling his heart pick up pace once again.

"Yeah… no choice."

"Okay," Tony replied, giving him another smile. "If you think it's what you want."

Gibbs just shrugged, looking rather forlorn all of a sudden and Tony in a lack of other options, reached out to take his hand and was once again startled as the other man didn't flinch away.

"Do you remember them?" he finally asked slowly as the guy continued to transfix the picture in his hand.

"No," Gibbs answered after a long while, his eyes never leaving his girls smiling into the camera. "May… be… not… sure."

"What is it, Jethro?" Tony asked softly. "Maybe I can help you?"

"Toh-nee," Gibbs slowly started, finally looking at him again. "Drugs?"

Tony stared at him for a moment, not comprehending what he wanted to say and as he was just about to tell him so, the scales fell from his eyes.

"Yeah," he replied reluctantly. "They were killed by a drug dealer. Pedro Hernandez."

"I… I," Gibbs furrowed his brows in concentration and it almost broke Tony's resolve not to hug the guy as he saw the sadness on his face again. "I," he repeated, "killed Her…nan…dez?"

Tony stared at him as he sucked in a breath before he slowly nodded, desperately trying to hold the sick feeling inside of him. Why in the world had Jethro remember that of all things?

"Yeah, you did."

"No jail?"

Tony almost let out a laugh at the sheer incredulity on the other man's face, but he held himself back, knowing that it would hardly be appropriate.

"The investigators never found out who killed him."

Gibbs slowly nodded and then pointed at Tony, his eyebrows almost reaching his hairline.

"How I know? Well, I think I always kind of knew, you know, but you told me about two years ago. You wanted to come clean to me, so that I would have the chance to know who you really were. Didn't make me love you less."

"You… stupid," Gibbs replied, a smile tugging at the right corner of his mouth and Tony couldn't help but let out a laugh this time.

"Yeah, you know, I might be stupid, but it's just who you are and nobody ever blamed you for it."

"Abby?"

"Yeah, she knows," Tony slowly continued. "She wanted to keep it secret, though. For you."

"Why?" Jethro asked so quietly that Tony leaned closer ever so slightly.

"Because we love you, Jethro."

Gibbs blinked rapidly now as he stared right at Tony as if trying to figure out whether or not he was speaking the truth. Tony just looked right back at him, never averting his eyes, trying to make him understand that he wouldn't go anywhere and that he really did love him despite everything. He saw the other man's blue eyes shimmer for a moment before he noticed the first tear run down his cheek and it was when his resolve was finally broken.

"Can I hug you?" he asked and was relieved when Gibbs nodded almost instantly, so he just leaned closer to him, pulling his arms around him so tightly that he feared he might break his ribs, but the other man never flinched, never complained, so Tony just held on to him, while quiet sobs were escaping the other man's mouth and tears kept on streaming down his face.

It didn't matter because maybe, maybe Gibbs had finally realized that Tony did indeed love him. Loved him so much that it almost hurt.

* * *

_A/N: Hope you liked it! ;)  
_


	15. Part III Falling: Partition

_A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews! You guys rock!_

* * *

Chapter Two:_ Partition_

The next two weeks were filled with rushing from the Navy Yard to the hospital and to their house. Tony wanted to get as many things done as possible before Jethro would be able to go home. He was running on low energy once again, but he knew that this time it was most definitely worth it. He had stocked up on food, had cleaned the house, had made sure that anything important was easily accessible, had installed a few handles in the bathroom and had, with McGee's help, moved the bed downstairs. All in all, the house felt more like home with every day he was changing things around and Tony realized that he was really looking forward to staying there again. In fact, he couldn't wait for Gibbs to come home to him, couldn't wait to share a bed with him again, couldn't wait to have a lazy Sunday afternoon with him in front of the television or down in the basement. He knew that things wouldn't go back to normal in any time soon, but maybe having the guy home again would provide him with the so desperately needed warmth inside of him.

.

"Hey Tony," McGee's voice resounded through the house and Tony, who had just put the last plate into the dishwasher, slowly made his way towards Kelly's room or rather towards their new bedroom.

"What's up, McMover?" he shouted back.

"Where do you want those?" Tim asked as Tony entered the room and stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Palmer bend over one of the boxes with Kelly's stuff, just about to open it.

"No, don't," Tony cried out louder and sharper than he had intended.

Slightly startled, Palmer looked up at him, his hand still hovering in mid-air, his brows furrowed.

"Sorry?" he finally said then.

Tony subtly shook his head, running a hand over his face and sighed loudly. He, himself, had never dared to even touch one of those boxes, let alone look inside one out of respect for Jethro's past and the mere thought of Palmer rummaging through them made him sick to his stomach.

"Sorry, didn't mean to shout," he finally apologized. "It's just Gibbs' personal stuff. I'd rather you not touch it. I mean, what's inside it."

"Do you want to keep them here?" Ziva chimed in from the other side of the room where she had apparently just brushed the dust off of one of the cupboards.

"No," Tony shook his head. "I guess we'll move it upstairs into our old bedroom. I'll let Gibbs figure out what to do with them."

"Okay, then," Palmer hurried to say and then grabbed one of the boxes with McGee mirroring his actions before they both disappeared from the room.

Ziva, however, was still standing there, giving him a speculative look.

"Are you alright, Tony?"

"Hmm?" he replied distractedly, looking around the room. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"Just asking. It must be pretty overwhelming at the moment for you, yes?"

"Yeah, I guess," Tony shrugged, finally looking her into the eyes. "But I know that now things finally might settle down, you know. I mean… I think we're out of the woods, you know."

"I really hope you are," Ziva just said before she picked up a box herself and went to leave the room, too, but stopped just as she was passing by Tony to bump her shoulder into his. "If you need help with anything you know where to find me, yes?"

"I know, Ziva. Thank you," Tony replied barely audible, suddenly touched by her obvious concern.

"You are very welcome. And now, let us get moving, yes? I am sure you do not want to get to Gibbs at a time he is already asleep."

"Yeah."

.

Exactly two weeks after Tony had first told Jethro that he might be going home soon, the younger man picked the guy up late on a Monday afternoon. He could almost feel the nervous energy that the other man was all but radiating next to him. They didn't talk much on the drive over, as Jethro was apparently too occupied to watch the landscape and houses go by through the side window and Tony was too busy to keep his eyes on the road and not on the older man. He was beyond nervous about having Jethro back in their house again and at the same time, he felt like this could be their break, like this could be exactly what they needed and maybe what Jethro needed, too, to finally remember them again.

Once they reached the house, Gibbs suddenly became rather still as he slowly limped up the driveway and let himself into their home. Tony took it as a good sign that he wasn't surprised that the door was unlocked. He slowly followed his partner into the house, glad that he had opted against a welcome home party as Abby had suggested. He wanted Gibbs to feel as comfortable as possible and he had never quite liked having many people in his house after all. The older man still hadn't said anything as he slowly walked through the living room, his glance briefly landing on the couch before he went towards the kitchen. All the while, Tony was looking for a sign that Gibbs recognized anything, but his expression stayed stoic on his way through the house. Tony had known that it would have been a long shot anyway, but something inside of him was still deeply disappointed by it. But he had learned to live with it, he would just continue to remember for the both of them and it would have to be enough for the time being.

When Gibbs chanced a glance into their brand new bedroom, however, something in his expression changed after all. He had stopped just inside the door causing Tony to almost bump into him.

"Kelly's old room?" Gibbs then asked, his voice quiet and soft and very clear for once.

Generally, his talking had improved so much over the last couple of weeks that it still sometimes astonished Tony. While only two weeks previously he had barely been able to utter a single word, he was now able to form complete sentences without as much as breaking off once. He was still mixing up words and tenses sometimes, but Tony could easily overlook those. Betimes, they could actually talk to each other like they had before the blow to Gibbs' head. The older man was still a bit reluctant and a bit slow, too, but it didn't bother either one of them anymore.

Tony finally nodded in answer of Jethro's earlier question, feeling him stiffen up ever so slowly, but he remained silent, so Tony finally started to talk again.

"I put the boxes upstairs in our old bedroom if you want to look at them?"

To his surprise, Jethro nodded once and then slowly made his way towards the stairs. Tony internally debated following in case he wouldn't make it upstairs, but then refrained, knowing that the older man preferred to be alone with his thoughts. When Gibbs had reached the stairs, though, he turned around, raising an eyebrow at Tony.

"You come?"

"Uh, Jethro," Tony slowly replied as he approached him. "You usually don't want me there. Actually, you almost never look at them yourself. Only after really bad cases or if we had a fight, you'd go in there and look at the stuff."

"Okay," Gibbs replied slowly and climbed a few stairs before he stopped and turned towards Tony once again. "Not today."

"You want me to go with you?" Tony asked, his heart suddenly picking up its pace. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Jethro just said and then continued to go up and for a moment, Tony just stared at him as he realized that the other man's voice had sounded exactly like the old and well-known impatient growly Gibbs in boss-mode one.

"On your six, Boss," Tony couldn't help but quip as he hurried after him.

.

They had spent all but two hours up there, looking through photo albums, drawings and dolls. Tony's heart had grown heavier with every item he passed on to the other man, but Gibbs didn't seem to have noticed. He was mostly engrossed in the things that had once belonged to his daughter and while they weren't actually triggering any memories as far as Tony could tell, it seemed like Gibbs was determined to get to know his daughter all over again. Tony went along with it, after all, he didn't know much about her, either, except for the few things that Gibbs had shared over the years and he felt oddly touched to be finally able to look at Gibbs' most closely guarded secret. When he noticed Jethro's movements getting slightly sluggish, he proposed to go downstairs, eat dinner and then go to bed. The older man didn't argue and Tony realized that he must have been pretty beaten after all.

"Jethro?" Tony asked almost an hour later, cleaning up the table. "I know we haven't talked about it yet, but… uh… where do you want me to sleep? Can we share a bed or…?"

Gibbs looked at him for a moment or two before he nodded curtly, causing Tony to feel a weight lift off his shoulders. He hadn't been sure whether the other guy would want it as he was still rather reluctant when it came to touching, but Tony wasn't quite sure whether he could have handled a no right now. He almost ached to hold him in his arms at night again, ached to be roused from his sleep by soft kisses on the back of his neck in the mornings. He knew, of course, that none of these things were likely to happen any time soon, but it did mean the world to him that they were at least sharing a bed again and he fervently hoped that the other stuff would come back sooner or later, too.

.

Three days later, though, Tony couldn't help but realize that his excitement about having the older man back in their house had somehow managed to get lost. While Gibbs was indeed back there, Tony was starting to feel lonelier with every hour that passed. He didn't even know why that was, but Gibbs was strangely withdrawn from him. Sometimes he would just slowly wander around the house for what seemed like hours, never answering any of Tony's questions, let alone turning around to look at him. Tony didn't know what he was doing, he had even asked Ducky about it, but the ME had just told him to wait and see, figuring that Gibbs was just looking for something to trigger any kind of memory. And indeed, it did seem like it was back to the same old, same old 'wait and see', only that this time, Tony didn't want to wait anymore, didn't want to see anymore. He wanted to touch, wanted to feel - just something. But with every minute, with every hour that Jethro would just look at random things in the house, Tony felt emptier inside. And as if the wandering and the silence weren't bad enough, Jethro would also look at a photo of him, Shannon and Kelly for minutes at a length without even blinking once. Tony hadn't been worrying about it in the beginning because the guy could look at pictures all he wanted, but that was before the younger man had realized that every time he would walk into the room or every time Gibbs just noticed him, he would let it slip into the pocket of his jeans, as if he had never even looked at it in the first place. Figuring that it couldn't go on like that, Tony finally sat down on the couch one afternoon, five days after Gibbs had first come home, and patted to the empty spot beside him. For once, the older man seemed to acknowledge his presence and followed his lead, looking at Tony expectantly, his eyes locking into his.

"Can I ask you a question?" Tony finally started, breaking the almost overwhelming silence. As he saw Gibbs nod, he continued. "You know that you can look at pictures of Shannon and Kelly every time you want, right? I mean you don't have to hide them from me or whatever. You know that, right?"

Gibbs remained silent for a moment before he shifted ever so slightly, running a suddenly shaky hand over his face.

"I," he finally started slowly. "They… my family."

Tony stared at him for a minute before he finally understood what the other man wanted to tell him. Trying not to choke on his next words, as he felt like he had just been punched in the stomach, he continued slowly and quietly.

"Yes, they are," he said, trying to get Jethro to look him into the eyes and succeeded in the end. "But listen… You are _my_ family. You're pretty much everything I have. I know I can count on the others, on your dad, maybe even on my dad, but when things get really rough, it always comes down to you. So, yeah, Shannon and Kelly were… are your family, but you are mine, Jethro, and by extension that makes them my family, too."

Gibbs stared at him for what felt like a really long time, but never even opened his mouth. He just looked at Tony, his eyes slightly brighter than usual and Tony noticed with a sinking heart that he had seen them like that once before. They were just as dead as they had been when Jethro had first woken up from his coma. He didn't know what it meant or if Gibbs even realized that keeping silent was the worst thing he could do to Tony right at that moment. But then, just as Tony was sure that he would break down and start to cry, Gibbs stood up and went into their bedroom without another glance, without another word. When Tony followed half an hour later when he was finally sure that he wouldn't lose the last of his sanity, Gibbs was already sound asleep in their bed. Sighing, Tony climbed in next to him, internally debating whether or not to give him a kiss goodnight on his cheek or hair or wherever, but as he noticed how stiff and how on the very edge of the bed the guy was lying, he refrained, turned around to face the opposite direction and silently cried himself to sleep.

.

Tony had expected that things would go on like they had, but after his silent break-down, Gibbs seemed to be coming back to himself a little bit. He still wasn't talking much – but then again, when had he ever? – and he was still wandering around the house a lot, but he had started listening to Tony again and was interacting with him more and more. They never talked about their previous conversation again and while one part of Tony was glad about that, the other part was screaming louder at him to say something with every day he kept his feelings buried inside of him.

"Toh-nee?" Gibbs' voice roused him from his thoughts on a Sunday morning during breakfast.

Tony looked up from the eggs that Gibbs had cooked for them that morning, quite shocking Tony, too, but they had been as good as ever.

"What's up?" he asked, plastering a smile on his face.

"I…" Gibbs started hesitantly as if he wasn't sure he should really continue. "I build boats?"

"Yeah," Tony answered, this time giving him a real smile because he realized that Jethro might have actually remembered something. Just to make sure he asked, "Have you been down in the basement?"

"No," Gibbs replied, furrowing a brow. "Why?"

"Come on, let me show you something."

The eggs forgotten for the moment, Tony all but jumped up and then patiently waited until Gibbs did the same and slowly limped towards the basement. When he reached the stairs and looked down at the half-finished boat that was standing down there, he stopped dead and stared at it for so long that Tony almost thought that he had spaced out again but then the older man turned to look at him, confusion written all over his face.

"How… get the boat out of here?"

Tony stared at him for a moment or two, trying to decide whether or not his leg was being pulled before he realized that the guy was serious. He let out a laugh and shook his head when Gibbs had just opened his mouth again.

"I can't believe you just asked me that. Do you have any idea how many times I've asked you that? Or anyone has asked you that for that matter? You would never tell us… and I'm sorry," he added, his laughter bubbling over. "It's just really funny that you don't remember now. I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh… but -"

Gibbs, however, just shook his head, a slight smirk on his face as he slowly descended the stairs and Tony was glad that he didn't seem to be mad at him for once. He followed him and then sat down on the last of the stairs as he watched Gibbs run his hands over the surface of the wood. He then looked at Tony and was apparently just about to say something as he stopped dead in his tracks, his brow furrowing again.

"You always… sit there?"

"Yeah," Tony replied, smiling once again, his heart beating impossibly fast all of a sudden.

Was Gibbs actually remembering stuff today? Could it really be that after that horrible, horrible week, there was somehow actually a silver lining?

"Yeah, I used to… but only until we got together. Afterwards you insisted that I have to help you. I pretty much suck at wood working, but I'm not all that bad at sanding."

"Okay," Gibbs just said, picking up one of the sanders, staring at it in wonder for a moment or two before he started to grind it over the surface of the wood.

After a few minutes, Tony got up, too, desperate for some normalcy and picked up a sander for himself and without another word set to work.

.

"With the… grain," Jethro spoke up half an hour later, as he had momentarily stopped his motions to look at Tony instead. "How… many times… I… tell you."

"I don't know," Tony replied light-heartedly, never stopping the sanding. "How many times have you?"

"Too many, Di… Nozzo," Gibbs replied quickly and apparently without thinking because a moment later Tony felt him stop dead next to him more than he actually saw it.

"What?" he chuckled ever so slightly as he turned to look at him.

The smile was wiped from his lips almost instantly, though, as he saw the expression on Jethro's face. It was when he realized that Gibbs had actually remembered, not guessed, but remembered that he had scolded him for not working with the grain many, many times before. Gibbs had actually remembered something that had to do with Tony for once. This wasn't about Abby or Langer or his girls or Hernandez. This was about _Tony_ and it took all of the younger man's willpower not to go over there and hug him to death right there and then.

"Figures," he finally said, trying to diffuse the situation a bit because Gibbs still had that strange expression on his face that Tony didn't like all that much. "That you'd remember scolding me. But you know what? I take it. This is good, Gibbs. This is really good."

Jethro looked at him for a minute longer before he broke out into a smile, too. For a moment it seemed like he wanted to reach out and touch him, but then Gibbs just chuckled soundlessly and then started to work on the boat again, leaving Tony standing there feeling happy and sad at the same time.

.

Tony had to get back to work by Tuesday and even though, he wasn't supposed to feel that way at all, he was secretly glad he could get away from their house for a couple of hours. He knew that Jethro was well-cared for. Ducky and Abby had promised to stop by at their respective lunch breaks and twice a day Gibbs' physical and speech therapists would appear, too. There wasn't really anything to worry about, Tony knew that, but he also knew that Gibbs was most likely to wander aimlessly around the house again now that Tony wasn't there anymore. Despite the moment they had shared in the basement the other day, there was still something terribly wrong between them and he didn't have a clue what it was exactly and how in the world he could solve the problem. All he knew was that he ached to touch him, ached to be touched by the guy worse than ever and he had caught himself daydreaming of actually kissing him for the first time in months, but that was all wishful thinking. Knowing that only made it harder, though.

Going back to work had seemed to be doing them some good in the beginning, as Jethro was more talkative in the evenings, had sometimes even cooked him dinner and had once even watched TV with Tony, but the younger man could still feel the invisible wall between them which only seemed to be getting thicker with every day. He never commented on it, though, hoping and wishing that it was only temporary and that the other man would come around eventually.

Three weeks later, though, when he came home from work late due to their most recent case, he noticed Gibbs sleeping on the couch, his eyelids fluttering as if he was dreaming. He was wearing the clothes he was usually sleeping in and Tony knew that he hadn't just fallen asleep there waiting for him, but that he had deliberately lain down there to sleep.

To sleep on the couch and not in the bed with Tony.

Feeling his heart sink, Tony reached for the blanket, covering the other man with it and then wrestled the same old picture out of Gibbs' death grip. He stared at the three smiling faces of the Gibbs family for a moment before he turned to look at the older man for a very long time.

He knew that he couldn't ignore it any longer. He knew that there was something standing between them all of a sudden and it was probably much bigger than Shannon and Kelly. He also knew that they couldn't keep going like that. Suppressing the tears that threatened to fall, Tony finally stood up and then went to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

They needed to talk and soon because otherwise they would be falling apart and this time, Tony was sure it would not be that easy to fix them.

* * *

_A/N: Hope you liked it! :)_


	16. Part III Falling: Dissociation

_A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews! _

* * *

Chapter Three: _Dissociation_

Tony should have known that it wouldn't be that easy to talk to the guy right away. The next day he got called in at six o'clock in the morning because of a dead petty officer and he didn't even have time to catch his breath till five days later when Ziva finally found the missing piece to their puzzle and they were able to bring the killer in. By that time it was Tuesday already and Tony silently vowed to himself that he would talk to Gibbs on the weekend. He knew that he was a chicken for not tackling the problem right away, but he couldn't help it. He still hoped that things would miraculously get better overnight and while deep down he knew that it wouldn't happen, he couldn't help but to give in to the delusive hope. He had to dodge a couple of questions from both Abby and Ziva who had apparently picked up on the fact that he was easily distracted these days and barely engaged in not-work-related conversations, but he assured them that he was fine and that he would come to them if there was something wrong. It was a blatant lie and Tony was pretty sure that the two women knew it, too, but they didn't call him up on it, so he didn't think much about it. He'd deal with them as soon as there actually was something wrong.

He could hardly tell them that his gut was telling him that there was something going on with Gibbs that wasn't all that great after all. He wouldn't tell them that he had been sleeping on the couch in the living room that last week, either. It hadn't really been a conscious decision, but he had always come home so late at night, if at all, that he hadn't wanted to wake up the other man. He knew that he, there, too, was hiding and running away from confrontation but it was what it was and he wouldn't change it for the time being. Maybe things would look up after all. Sometimes, when Tony got home from work, tired and cranky, Gibbs would just look at him, hand him a bottle of beer and then just sit down on the couch and watch him in silence. It was times like these that Tony thought that the other man did remember after all because they had done it a hundred of times before. But then again, this was just Gibbs. He had never talked much, had always waited for Tony to finally speak up when something was bothering him. Gibbs was probably just trying to reach out to him in some way and had coincidently chosen his old tactic to do so. But besides those quiet evenings, they were rarely ever spending time together anymore. Most of the time when Tony came home, Jethro was either asleep or down in the basement sanding away at his boat. If he didn't know better, Tony would have thought that he was avoiding him on purpose, but then again why would he? Gibbs apparently didn't have that much of a problem with Tony except for the not-touching part and the never-talking one. So yeah, he probably was hiding from him after all.

.

"For god's sake, Tony," McGee snapped late on Friday afternoon, all but throwing the files he had been holding at Tony. "I know you're the boss now, but quit barking at us for no apparent reason. We've had a long week and we're just as desperate to get out of here as you are."

"I'm not the boss, McGee," Tony replied indignantly, gathering up a few papers that had slipped from the folders.

"Right now, you are," Tim sighed exasperatedly. "I don't know what your problem is these days, but solve it. I've had enough of your moods this week."

Tony had already opened his mouth to contradict the guy as he realized that the younger man was probably right. So he closed it again, organizing the papers for a moment and trying to find his inner equilibrium again. He finally let out a deep breath and then looked up at Tim again, trying to give him an apologetic smile.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"Sign of weakness," McGee replied automatically, but Tony vehemently shook his head.

"No, it's not. I'm sorry and you're right. I'll deal with it this weekend, won't happen again."

"Okay," Tim answered slowly, his brows furrowed, but he didn't continue the discussion and just sat back down at his desk.

Tony sighed again and then tried to concentrate on the report he had yet to type before going home. He knew that he hadn't exactly been Mr. Sunshine these past weeks, but he hadn't realized that his bad temper had shown that much. Internally vowing that he would treat the other two agents better, he finally set to work, determined, more than ever, to settle things with Jethro that weekend as it couldn't possibly go on like that.

.

He didn't have the chance to do so on Friday as Ducky had insisted to take the older man out to dinner that night. Tony had settled to watch some 007-movies to clear his head somewhat. James Bond never failed to keep him distracted and it worked this time, too. By the time Ducky and Jethro got back, he was in a considerably better mood, was able to make small talk with the ME and could almost pretend that Gibbs was his usual old self, too. But only almost. Because when Gibbs went to bed with a short 'Good night' and without a glance at him, he knew that he was in trouble, knew that he had to talk to him. Suddenly feeling anxious, Tony lay down on the couch again, trying to get at least a few hours of shut-eye before doomsday.

By morning, he felt absolutely whacked. He had barely slept, his head was pounding and his back was hurting like hell. When Gibbs finally woke up and left the bedroom in favor of drinking some orange juice before starting to go down to his goddamn boat, Tony finally took the figurative plunge.

"Gibbs?" he asked, his voice surprisingly steady despite his inner turmoil. "I think we need to talk."

"Yeah," the older man replied, his expression serious as he sat down next to Tony on the couch. "Think so, too."

Tony nodded thoughtfully, not missing Gibbs' slightly shaky voice, even though he was articulating better and better with every day. They stayed silent for a moment, with Tony staring at the opposite wall and Jethro fidgeting ever so slightly, which suddenly unnerved the younger man to no end because he never used to do that.

"Can I ask," Tony finally started, his own voice rather shaky now, too. "What your problem with me is?"

"I," Gibbs answered and Tony felt his eyes on him, but he didn't avert his glance from the wall. "Do not… have a problem… with you."

"Come on, Gibbs," the younger man replied with more force than he had intended, so he took a deep breath to calm himself down somewhat before he continued. "Do you really think that not sharing a bed anymore is not having a problem? Or that you can't stand me touching you? Don't take me for an idiot."

Gibbs visibly flinched at Tony's raised voice, but the younger man couldn't bring himself to really care at the moment. He really needed to know the answer to those questions otherwise his sanity would disappear completely.

"You… not an idiot," Jethro finally answered haltingly as if it cost him more than a few breaths to get the words out. "I… I'm just… It's weird."

"Weird?" Tony asked slightly taken aback, as he had expected the other man to deny it. "What is weird?"

"T-touching you."

"Why?" he said unable to hide his annoyance and it showed apparently because Gibbs visibly flinched away from him again, fixing his glance on his hands now.

"Because… I feel weird cuddling my… senior field agent."

Tony stared at him for a moment or two, feeling his heart sink and his breath hitch in his throat.

"What?" he finally asked so quietly that he wasn't even sure that the other man had even heard him.

"It's weird that I… am supposed to… c-cuddle you when I used to give you… orders and smack… your head."

Tony felt like he had been dipped into ice-cold water and punched in the stomach at the same time. He blinked a couple of times, trying to get his head around what Jethro had just said. How could he say something like that? How could he do this to him? They had gotten over that issue years ago and now he was bringing _this_ up again?

Wait.

Tony felt his heart miss a beat as another realization slowly sank in. Suddenly he was feeling sick to his stomach and he wanted to run again from all of this, but forced himself to stay calm.

"You remember?" he finally asked so feebly that Gibbs instinctively leaned closer towards him, causing Tony to breathe in his scent, but it only made it so much worse at the moment.

"Yeah," Gibbs answered, barely louder than Tony. "C-Couple of things. Shannon. K-Kelly. Work."

"When? Since when do you remember?" Tony pressed out, successfully fighting his tears for the moment.

"A while ago."

"A while?" Tony asked, his voice louder now and he couldn't hold back the anger anymore as he continued. "A while? Why the hell did you not tell me, Gibbs?"

Gibbs finally averted his eyes from his hands to look at him instead and Tony's anger instantly diminished somewhat as he saw the fear in the other man's eyes.

"Did not want to… disappoint you."

"Why would I be disappointed?" Tony asked, his voice smooth and even all of a sudden as if the previous outburst had never happened.

"'Cause… I do… not remember us," Gibbs answered so quietly and devastated that Tony felt the urge to reach out and touch him reassuringly, but he knew that now was hardly the time.

"But that's not your fault, Jethro."

"Know that. Not make it better."

"Okay," Tony slowly continued after a moment of silence as he realized that Jethro wasn't about to continue. "You feel weird touching me because you don't remember about us. I think I get it, but that can't be it, you know? You, uh, didn't want me to touch you before you remembered, either. Even when you were barely, well, here, you always flinched away."

"I… know," Gibbs replied quietly, once again averting his eyes from him. "You didn't t-tell me that we were t-together and I… not understood why you were t-touching me like that."

Tony blinked a couple of times before the truth sank in that this was his fault. He hadn't told the guy back then and he had never realized that it had to be feeling pretty weird holding hands with him when one didn't know their back story. Mentally kicking himself, he took a deep breath as he fought down the urge to apologize and cry.

"Okay," he quietly replied, running his hand through his hair erratically. "But you seemed to be okay with it when I first told you we were together."

"I was," Gibbs answered. "'Cause I thought… I would remember it again. But it… did not seem right."

"Why?"

"'m not g-gay."

Tony let out a pathetic attempt of a laugh, squeezing his eyes shut to hold back his tears once again.

"I can't believe we're having this conversation… again. Look Gibbs, just because we were… well, you know, doesn't mean you're gay. I've already told you that, but we both were never interested in guys before each other. Abby liked to call you Tony-sexual. It didn't matter that I'm a guy, Gibbs, because you and me we just clicked. And you… you loved me."

Gibbs remained silent but finally looked at Tony again. His expression was open for once, with different emotions flickering over his face with every second that passed. Tony stared right back at him, waiting for the reply that never came. Instead, Gibbs just kept on watching him as if he was waiting for Tony to do something. But the younger man didn't know what he wanted him to do. So, they just sat there for a very long time and Tony felt his heart grow heavier with every moment that passed that Jethro wasn't answering. Finally, the realization hit him.

"That's not it, though, is it? The being gay part? There's something else that's bothering you, right?"

Gibbs stayed quiet for a minute or so before he slowly and tremendously nodded.

"What is it? Please, tell me," Tony realized that he was getting frantic now, as if he was trying to hold on to something that he knew he had already lost. "What is it?"

"Feel like… betraying Shannon."

Staring at Gibbs, Tony let out a breath he hadn't even known he had been holding. He subtly shook his head, trying to find a way to explain to the older guy that they already had that exact same conversation three years ago when they had realized that just because Gibbs was with Tony now didn't mean that he was cheating on Shannon. But how in the world was he supposed to tell him that when the other guy didn't even remember their first kiss, their first date or the first time they woke up in each other's arms? How was Tony supposed to explain to Gibbs that he had indeed loved him? How could he?

"Gibbs, listen," he finally started, his vision fogging up, but he refused to let the tears fall. "We've had this discussion before and I really don't know what I'm supposed to tell you." Tony gulped, trying to keep his voice from breaking as he continued. "Except that I can't change anything. Shannon always will be a part of your life, but that doesn't mean you can't love me or anybody else for that matter. Look… I know Shannon and Kelly's deaths hit you hard and that you had trouble getting back on track afterwards. I know all of that because you told me all about it. And you want to know why you told me? Because you trusted me. And I know that I can't just make you trust me again, but I've been there for you whenever you needed me. I don't know if you remember that, but I've always had your back on everything. Even if it was stupid, I've always been there. And I've worked my ass off these last couple of months to be by your side every damn minute that I wasn't at work. I ran myself ragged to be there and yet… I'm sorry, but I don't get anything from you? Not a word, not a look, not one single touch? I know it must be hard not remembering anything, I'm sure I can't even begin to imagine what it feels like, but can't I get anything in return? I fought for you every damn minute. When everybody told me take you off life support, I refused to because I wanted to give you a chance to fight. And all I'm asking you now is to fight for this, too, okay?"

"They wanted to let me d-die?" Gibbs asked now, his voice slightly shaking and his complexion becoming paler.

Tony closed his eyes, urging himself to remain calm because that was – once again – not what he had wanted to hear, but he forced himself to answer anyway.

"Yeah, about two weeks before you woke up the doctors told me that there was no chance that you'd wake up again. I was the only one who wanted to give you a bit more time. And you want to know why? Because I believed in you."

Gibbs remained silent at that, his eyes locked into Tony's. The blue seemed brighter than usual and Tony felt his heart beat faster in his chest as he realized that once again, the older man wouldn't react to his words like had expected – or had hoped he would. Once more, he just continued to stare at him, apparently lost for words and not realizing that he was killing Tony more and more inside with every second he let lapse away without saying anything.

"You know what the worst thing about it is?" he finally started over as the silence seemed to want to eat him up alive. "I don't remember our last kiss. I just can't remember it. I wish I could tell you that the last time we kissed was spectacular like in the movies before something bad happens, you know. But I just can't… because I don't remember. I can't remember what you tasted like or what you last said to me before we went to work that day. I wish I could tell you to make you see that this, us, was really real, but I can't."

Expectantly, he looked at the other man, but once again, he stayed quiet. He had a pained expression on his face now and Tony felt his heart break all over again because he could almost see the desire to remember them on the other man's face, but the memory never came.

"Look," Tony said after a while of poignant quietness. "I love you. So much. I don't know what to do."

"I know."

"Yeah, but you don't love me, do you?" Tony asked quietly now as he looked into the bright blue eyes that were shimmering with unshed tears.

There was dead silence again before Gibbs finally shook his head. "No."

"Could you…," Tony trailed off as he swallowed down the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him. "Could you… I mean… do you think you could fall in love with me again?"

He held his breath as he looked straight into Gibbs' eyes and then felt an iron fist clutch his insides when the older man half shrugged and half shook his head.

"Okay," Tony answered quietly, leaning away from the other guy ever so slightly. "Okay."

So this was it. This was the end and Tony had no idea what he was supposed to do now.

He wanted to be mad at the other man, but he was looking at him so broken at the moment that it seemed impossible. Tony knew that it wasn't his fault, it wasn't his fault that he didn't remember and that he didn't feel the same way anymore. But it didn't make it easier. On contrary, for a brief moment Tony wished that Gibbs would just tell him that he had never loved him because that actually would make it easier to accept breaking up now.

He wanted to cry, wanted to shout, but he had to realize that he didn't have the energy anymore. He was just tired. He was exhausted. It was all too much and he didn't know how to make it better. All he knew was that he couldn't continue to just sit there and look at Jethro because it would break him once and for all. So he finally stood up, the tears still not willing to come as he walked towards their bedroom.

"Where you going?" Gibbs had finally found his voice as he stood up, too, and started to limp towards him, but Tony just shook his head.

"I can't be here right now. I'll just grab some of my stuff. I… I'm going to spend the night at Ziva's, okay?"

Gibbs stared at him for a moment and it seemed like he wanted to hold him back, but then he nodded dejectedly and sank back down on the couch. Tony looked at him for a moment before he walked into their bedroom, threw some of his clothes into his overnight bag and then made his way towards the front door. Stopping in the hallway, he turned around again to look at Jethro again.

"I'll call Ducky to keep you company, okay?" At Gibbs' nod, he continued. "If there's… anything… wrong… give me a call. I'm not mad at you or anything… I just can't… look at you right now."

"'Kay," Gibbs nodded again and then Tony turned around and left him behind.

.

Half an hour later, Tony stood in front of Ziva's apartment door, feebly wondering how he had even gotten there. His thoughts there still swirling in his head uncontrollably and he had no idea what he was supposed to do now. He still hadn't cried and he didn't even know why. Maybe he was still in shock and hadn't processed everything, but he had no clue what it would feel like if he did because he was pretty damn sure it couldn't be any worse than this. With a deep breath, he finally knocked, steeling himself for Ziva's questions that were sure to come. His first impulse had been to go to Abby's because he really did need a hug right now, but he couldn't imagine how Abby would react. She was way too emotional for this, so Ziva seemed like the more prudent choice because Tony really, really needed some perspective right now.

"Hey Tony," Ziva greeted him with a giggle as she opened the door. "Did not expect you today," she continued, looking back over her shoulder where a tall man with dark brown hair was standing.

Tony stared at the guy for a moment and wanted to apologize and turn around as Ziva caught his elbow, her expression suddenly changed. Her smile had been replaced by a deep frown as her glance reached the bag in Tony's hand.

"What has happened?" she asked, pulling him into the apartment, paying the other guy no attention whatsoever.

"Gibbs… and… me," Tony stuttered unable to form a coherent sentence. "Over."

Ziva intently stared at him for a moment or two before she softly pushed him down onto her couch. "Sit. I am going to make you some tea and then we can talk, yes?"

Tony felt himself nod mutely, barely paying attention to the short conversation between Ziva and the other man as he said his goodbyes. A few minutes later, Ziva sat down next to him, offering him a cup of tea, which Tony drank down hastily, not caring that he burned his tongue in the process.

"Didn't mean to spoil your day with…?"

"Lucas," Ziva offered, patting his shoulder. "And it does not matter. There will be other days. You are more important right now."

"How long have you been seeing him?" Tony asked, unwilling to think about his situation and desperate for some distraction.

"About half a year."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tony said now, slightly surprised as he saw Ziva shake her head ever so slightly.

"I did, Tony."

"When?"

"Often. But it does not matter right now."

Tony stared at her for a couple of moments, realizing that he hadn't even noticed and hadn't even listened to one of his best friends when something so important had apparently happened to her.

"Fuck, Ziva," he finally pressed out. "Where did it all go so wrong? Where did I go so wrong? Why can't I make it right? Why can't I?"

The tears finally started to fall now and sobs were escaping him and for once Ziva remained silent as she pulled her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Why can't I make it right?" Tony whispered over and over again through his sobs, knowing that Ziva knew no answer to that, either.

* * *

_A/N: Please, don't hate me xD Would love to hear your thoughts!_


	17. Part III Falling: Dissolution

_A/N: Wow, just wow. I've never ever received so many reviews for one single chapter. I'm still looking at the number in disbelief. Seriously, you guys are so awesome._

* * *

Chapter Four:_ Dissolution_

He let Ziva hold him for what seemed like a very long time. He hadn't realized before just how much he had missed touching someone and having someone close to him again. He had clung on to her for dear life and he knew that he would feel ashamed of it the next day, but it all didn't seem important. He just wanted someone to hold him and he wanted to cry and never stop. He had given Gibbs his everything and had gotten nothing in return for it. He knew that it wasn't the older man's fault, but he couldn't help but feel reproachful. He hadn't dwelled on that part for too long, though, simply because he just couldn't do it. Not then, not there. He was so exhausted and so drained, physically as well as psychologically, that it almost hurt. He didn't want to do anything. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to eat and he certainly didn't want to let go of Ziva. And she seemed to understand him, even without him actually having to say the words. She just kept on holding him even after the tears had finally stopped falling, even after his sobs had finally died down and some of the tension had finally left his body. She never asked what had happened, nor offered any sort of consolation and that was exactly what Tony needed. He didn't want to answer questions, he just wanted to sit there and think of nothing. He didn't know when he finally fell asleep that night or when Ziva had left him alone on the couch and it hardly even mattered.

As he slowly came to consciousness early the next morning, he just lay there for a few minutes, his eyes still closed, trying to figure out if it all hadn't been a dream after all. If he could just ignore the smell of the aromatic candles that were so typical of Ziva's apartment, he could have fooled himself for a minute or two, but in the end he had to realize that it hadn't been a dream and the he was indeed at Ziva's because the fight with Gibbs had actually happened.

It hadn't been a dream because he had woken up the nightmare that was his life.

He sat up now, running a hand over his face before he looked around for a moment and realized that it had to be pretty early as the sun wasn't even out yet. He knew that he should probably try to go back to sleep, but that would be fruitless as he was sure that he wouldn't be able to do that anyway.

He realized that he needed to talk about it, needed someone else's opinion on his situation. Whenever things had come to worse in the past, he wouldn't have thought twice about where to go for that. Gibbs had always been the solid rock in his life ever since he had picked him up from Baltimore all those years ago. The older man never said much, but when he did have something to say, he had made it count, making Tony instantly feel better every time.

He felt his heart sink as the realization dawned on him that the only person he actually wanted to talk to was indeed Gibbs and he just couldn't do that. They really had gotten to that point of which they had been afraid when they had first gotten together. They had destroyed everything they had, they were no partners anymore, they were not even friends anymore and it suddenly hit Tony that he couldn't talk to the other guy anymore because he had once again failed the most important person in his life. Why did he always do that? Why?

He hadn't noticed that he had started crying again until Ziva had entered the living room, still in her pajamas, and had sat down next to him again. She wasn't touching him this time, but it didn't matter much because Tony just really wanted somebody to be there and she just… was.

"What have I done, Ziva?" he finally whispered, wiping away the tears from his cheeks.

"You did not do anything wrong, Tony," she calmly answered, looking at him with a serious expression on her face. "I am sure you did everything you could have done."

"But it wasn't enough."

"Yes, but that is not your fault. Look, I do not know what has happened between the two of you, but I am sure that it is not you who is to blame."

"I could've done more, been there for him more often. Maybe he'd still love me, then."

Ziva stared at him for a long moment, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly as if he had just told her the most ridiculous thing ever. She then subtly shook her head and patted his thigh for a moment.

"Tony, you ran yourself ragged to be there for him as often as you could. I am sure that Gibbs knows that, too. And I am also sure that he does still care for you. Maybe he will come around, yes?"

"Don't think so," Tony mumbled, once again swallowing down the knot in his chest that seemed to choke him. "He told me he didn't love me anymore and that… that he…" he trailed off, fearing that his next words would be nothing more than pathetic sobs.

"Shh, it is okay," Ziva soothed him. "Maybe he just needs time. In the meantime, try not to think about it too much."

"No, Ziva," Tony answered, looking at her. "He doesn't need time. He told me that there was no chance anymore. He just… I just… don't know what to do now… What do I do, Ziva? What do I do?"

"I do not know that, either. I am sorry."

"Do I move out? Do I send someone to get my stuff? I just don't know what to do. I mean… I'm not even mad, you know. Should I be mad at him?"

"I would be."

"Yeah," Tony slowly answered, trying to grasp what was really going on within himself.

After a little while, he realized that he really wasn't mad. He was just disappointed. Just so damn disappointed.

"God, I'm so pathetic," he finally continued. "I can't even be mad at him. I mean… How can I be mad at him when it's not even his fault?"

"No, it is not," Ziva replied. "But you can still be mad. You have to do what is best for you and maybe being mad would help you. Just… do not think about him, just try to figure out what is best for you right now."

"I don't even know how to do that," Tony answered as he leaned back against the backrest of the couch, sighing loudly.

"See? That is what I mean, Tony. You have been so focused on helping Gibbs to get better these last couple of months that you did not look out for yourself. You need to find yourself again. Keep your distance from him, live _your_ life for once, maybe go away and take a vacation."

"Can't, I've used up all my comp time this year to be able to stay at the hospital."

It was Ziva's turn to sigh this time as she followed his lead and leaned back, turning her head to look at him.

"I am really sorry," she finally said after a moment of prolonged silence. "I really am."

"Thanks," Tony mumbled, wishing that he would be anywhere but there.

"I know I am not the best advisor in times like these, but I am here for you, okay?" she said then, giving Tony's shoulder a nudge. "You will get through this and I am going to help. Whatever you need. And I do have a guest room."

Tony stared at her for a moment before he nodded once, blinking away his tears again. He didn't want to cry anymore. He had cried so many times over these last couple of months that he was just tired of it. He didn't want to feel that way anymore. So helpless and so hopeless and above all so goddamn lonely. He knew that Ziva couldn't help to overcome those feeling, but he also knew that she would be there for him not matter what and that somehow helped him after all.

"Thanks," he finally muttered. "Really, I mean it. Thanks."

"Anytime, Tony."

.

True to his words, Tony showed up at work on Monday, despite still feeling miserable. Ziva had apparently told the others about his situation as Abby had come up first thing in the morning, had given him a hug, but hadn't said anything and McGee had just nodded at him, asking him if he wanted to go grab a beer after work sometime. Tony was grateful for that, as he hadn't been sure how to handle it all. He didn't want to talk about it anymore, hell, he didn't even want to think about it anymore. He hoped that work would distract him and while at times it did indeed seem like it was doing the trick, there were also times that Tony felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. Just looking at Jethro's still empty desk made him feel sick to his stomach as well as Tim's slip of tongue as he had called him boss. He knew that it all shouldn't feel that bad because it wasn't like Gibbs had been there for the last half a year, but it somehow felt even worse than before.

As the days went by, with Tony still staying the nights over at Ziva's and a never ending string of distractions offered to him, he realized that it was all no use. Working didn't distract him, neither did bowling with Abby and the nuns, the beers with McGee, nor the dinner with Ziva and Lucas. It all simply felt so wrong and the hole in Tony's chest seemed to grow bigger with every day that went by. He felt like he was missing a limp and sometimes when he lay awake at night, he wondered if the silence that had ruled between him and Jethro these last few weeks before they had broken up hadn't been better than this. At least he had been able to look at him and had been able to talk to him from time to time. He couldn't do that anymore and he didn't know how to fill the gigantic void the other man had left him with.

.

Two weeks after he had last set a foot in Gibbs' house, Tony was sitting in his car in the driveway in front of his old home, pondering whether or not to go in there. He knew he needed to because he needed his clothes and probably some of his DVDs because Ziva owed like three movies and he felt sure that he wouldn't be able to stand another evening with the _Sound of Music_. He could have sent McGee or Ducky to pick up his stuff, but somehow he didn't want them to. He knew that Gibbs was doing alright, at least according to Ducky and Jackson who had kept on calling him to catch him up on the other man's condition whenever they had visited Jethro. So, Tony didn't need to worry about his health, but he couldn't help but feel the urge to see him, even if it would tear his heart apart once and for all. He simply wanted to look at him again, make sure that he was indeed alright for one last time. He didn't know whether it would be enough, but he would take his chances. He knew he had to in order to be maybe able to move on somewhat, even if he had no idea how to even start doing that.

As he had finally plucked up his courage, had gotten out of his car and was just about to open the front door, he almost ran into Fornell who was just about to leave.

"DiNozzo," the FBI agent said quietly as he carefully closed the door behind him. "Can we talk for a second?"

"Uh, sure," Tony nodded as he followed Fornell a bit to the side. "What's up?"

Fornell snorted and then shook his head ever so slightly before he looked him into the eyes and Tony felt his heart miss a beat at the seriousness in the other man's expression.

"Listen, I don't know if you want to know, but the guy's miserable in there."

Tony cast down his eyes, fixing his glance on his shoes as he tried to figure out what the other man was aiming at.

"Yeah, well, so am I," he finally said as Fornell stayed quiet, figuring that it couldn't possibly hurt telling the guy that, it was probably plain to see anyway.

"Yeah," the older man replied thoughtfully. "Listen… I know it's really none of my business, but I do like the guy in there and hell, I might even like you."

Tony snorted, looking up for a moment, but couldn't dwell on that particular ridiculous thought for too long because Fornell quickly continued.

"I know none of this is your fault, but can't you two just be friends?"

"I don't think so," Tony mumbled, feeling more and more uncomfortable having that type of conversation with Fornell of all people.

"Not even for him?"

"Look, I know you probably mean well and all, but frankly I'm tired of it all. All I've done this past half a year was for him. I can't do that anymore, I'm exhausted."

"Fair enough," Fornell replied, subtly shaking his head again as he started to walk away from him, but Tony held him back.

"I don't expect you to understand. But I just can't do that right now."

"Thing is, Tony, I do understand… I've never been a big fan of yours…"

"No kidding," the younger man cut in but was only rewarded a slight scowl by the older guy, so he fell silent again.

"But you did make him happy," Fornell continued, casting a fugitive look into the general direction of the house as if he was afraid to be overheard. "Hell, he was smiling every time he just talked about you."

"Don't," Tony interrupted again, not willing to listen to him because it just hurt knowing that it would never be like that ever again.

"No, listen. Point is he misses you, even if he doesn't say it."

"Yeah, well, so do I. What does it matter? It doesn't change anything. He didn't even call."

"Of course, he doesn't call. He's a goddamn thickhead and stubborn beyond belief."

"That he is," Tony felt a small smile appear on his face, but fought hard to let it vanish as soon as he had noticed it. "But it doesn't matter. I just can't do this anymore."

"Fair enough, but keep the friendship thing in mind, will you? Just think about it."

With that and a curt nod, Fornell finally walked away from him, leaving Tony staring after him for a moment or two, suddenly feeling confused to no end. Fornell had never talked to him that much, let alone urged him to set things right with Gibbs. Tony knew that it wasn't any of the guy's business, but it also showed that he did actually care about Gibbs a lot and that he wanted him to be happy. But Tony couldn't possibly do that, could he? He simply couldn't be friends with the guy anymore, even if he desperately wanted to. It all just hurt too damn much.

Sighing and steeling himself, Tony finally walked up towards the front door and quietly opened it. He almost let out a cry of surprise when he saw Gibbs standing right in front of him, his left hand clutching the cane so tightly that his knuckles were already turning white and his eyes were piercing Tony's for a very long moment.

"How long have you been standing there?" Tony finally choked out as he had finally gotten his heartbeat under control.

He didn't even know whether it had sped up because of the surprise or because he was finally able to see him again and he didn't care to examine it too closely for the moment, afraid to miss anything that Gibbs might have to say to him. He would need to treasure the few moments he would have with the other man from now on because he knew that he wasn't likely to see him all that much anymore.

"A while," Gibbs finally answered, still standing there, breathing rather shallowly.

"You heard everything, didn't you?"

Gibbs just nodded, his eyes never leaving Tony's.

"Okay, then," Tony pressed out, not sure what to say.

"You… still staying with Ziva?" Gibbs unexpectedly asked now.

"Yeah."

"Okay," the older man replied and only now did Tony realize that he was shaking ever so slightly.

"I just came here to, uh, pick up some clothes. Didn't mean to bother you."

"You are no b-bother, T-Tony."

Tony stared at him Jethro for a moment, trying to fight down the sick feeling in his stomach at the broken sound of the older man's voice. He had apparently finally mastered to pronounce his name right and for a moment Tony couldn't help but feel the reproach well up inside of him. It was stupid and not Jethro's fault, he knew that, but he couldn't help it. Why had the guy finally managed to say his name when Tony hadn't been there? Why did all the important stuff always happen when he wasn't around?

"Hmm," he finally pressed out and was about to pass by the other guy in order to actually get his clothes as he felt a warm hand on his forearm, effectively holding him back.

His nerve endings suddenly seemed to be on fire as the sensation of being touched, actually being touched, by the other guy was suddenly whizzing through them. Almost involuntarily, he stopped and turned around, too aware of the sudden close proximity between them. Gulping audibly, he raised an eyebrow and avoided the eye contact as he fixed his glance at a point right above Jethro's head.

"Are you… al-alright?" Gibbs finally asked so quietly that Tony almost didn't catch it.

"No, I'm not," he answered truthfully, figuring that the older man would see through a lie anyway. "I've never been more not-alright if you really wanted to know."

"I am… 'm sorry."

"Don't be," Tony pressed out, stepping away from the other guy. "Just don't be. I don't need anyone's sympathy, especially not yours."

"But… I am and F-Fornell is right," Gibbs finally continued and Tony felt his eyes on him, but he still couldn't bring himself to look back at him. "I m-miss you."

"No, Gibbs," Tony blurted out, taking another step away from him. "Don't start. Don't do this to me."

He could feel the tears starting to well up again, but willed them down as he blinked rapidly a couple of times. This simply couldn't be happening right now. He couldn't do this, not when he was still so broken inside.

"But I d-do," Gibbs kept on pushing, apparently unaware of Tony's inner chaos. "M-miss having you a-around… m-miss your c-company."

"It's not enough, Jethro," Tony replied calmly, trying to keep holding on to the last piece of sanity. "It's not enough."

"Why not?" the older man asked and he did sound broken now, too, but Tony couldn't bring himself to care.

He needed to get out of there because this all couldn't be happening. Why was the other guy telling him that? Didn't he know how much he was hurting him with it? Didn't he know that it was exactly those words that would eventually kill him? He knew that Gibbs probably didn't understand why it was so bad that he missed him. But he was missing him for the wrong reasons. Tony wanted him to miss him because he wanted to hold him tight every night, wanted to kiss him until they didn't know where one of them ended and the other one started. But Gibbs didn't miss him for that. He might miss having him around the house and might miss their rare talks, but that's not what Tony wanted. He simply couldn't do that anymore and he suddenly felt stupid for having put up with all that crap for so long. Anger suddenly flared up inside of him, the anger he had waited for in vain two weeks previously.

"Well," he finally replied, his voice surprisingly steady for once. "I miss _Magnum, P.I._, too, but that doesn't mean they'll be bringing it back."

Gibbs stared at him with wide eyes, obviously taken aback by Tony's outburst.

"N-Not fair," he mumbled in response, actually taking a step back, too, now, as if he was afraid Tony would just lash out at him.

"Not fair?" Tony all but shouted, balling his hands into fists, desperately trying to hold back the anger and the disappointment. "Are you seriously telling me I'm not being fair?"

Gibbs shook his head and then, suddenly, something in his expression changed. It was a weird mix of determination and satisfaction and it caused Tony's gut to start churning.

"Just t-tell me," he finally answered, his voice imitating his look on his face. "What is n-not f-fair? I'm n-no invalid, so d-don't sugar…," he stopped for a moment and Tony realized that he was having trouble finding the word once again. "Sugar… top it?"

"Coat, Gibbs. Sugarcoat… and I shouldn't?"

Gibbs just shook his head again and Tony took a deep breath as he felt his anger finally bubbling over as if it had been waiting for that moment for a very long time.

"You want to know what's not fair? I've done nothing but be there for you and I've got nothing in return and now Fornell, of all people, tells me to be friends with you, just so you wouldn't miss me anymore? How is that fair, huh? Why don't I get anything in return for it? Do you even care how the hell I'm feeling about all of this? Do you? And if you missed me that much, why didn't you just call me? I told you could, but hey, you didn't. And you want to tell me I'm not being fair? Seriously?"

"D-didn't think you w-would want me t-to," Gibbs replied, his voice suddenly sounding frantic as if he hadn't expected that kind of reaction.

And he probably hadn't. Tony had never shouted at him ever since he had woken up from his coma, had never called him up on anything and only now did the younger man realize that he really should have done that. Gibbs was, after all, doing pretty well these days and there hadn't really been a reason anymore to handle him with kid gloves.

"I don't know if I would have wanted it? I don't know what I want, okay? I want to hate you for doing this to me and at the same time I miss you so much it hurts sometimes."

"'m sorry," Gibbs mumbled and stepped forwards again but as he saw Tony flinch away from him, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Don't be sorry, Gibbs. Listen," he finally started over again as he saw the broken look on the other man's face and felt his own anger slowly fade away. "I didn't mean to shout at you. I know it's not your fault, but you can't just tell me that you miss me. Not like that. I can't do this, I just… I mean, was Fornell right? Do you really want to be friends?"

"T-Tony," Gibbs quietly answered, his voice suddenly so gentle that the younger man felt something in his stomach start to flutter. "I d-don't know, b-but I d-do miss you. I remember you as my agent and I remember you as my f-friend. I know what you d-did for me this year, I really d-do. No m-matter of c-course and I… thank you f-for that."

Tony stared at him wide-eyed, realizing that this was exactly what he had desperately wanted to hear all this time. That he hadn't done all of it for nothing, that Jethro actually did know who exactly he had let walk away from him. Something inside him dissolved itself and he was suddenly able to breathe more freely than he had in months. It didn't make it easier, though. Tony knew that Gibbs had told the truth, he was missing him and so did Tony, but it still wasn't enough.

"C-Can't we," Jethro spoke into the poignant silence when the younger man was still trying to organize his thoughts. "G-go back to that?"

"You really want to be friends with me?" Tony asked now, running a shaky hand through his hair.

Gibbs nodded curtly, his eyes never leaving Tony's and for a brief moment, Tony thought that it all really could be that easy. He could just say yes and he would be able to see the other man on a regular basis again, hang out with him again, maybe touch him again. But it wasn't what he wanted. He simply couldn't go back to that, not when he had experienced everything else, not when he loved the guy so much that he couldn't sleep at night because it hurt not to be able to be with him. He knew that it would be the best for Jethro to try to be friends with him, but it would tear Tony apart. He simply couldn't do it. He just couldn't.

"I can't, Gibbs," he finally forced himself to say, even though every part of his body screamed at him not to continue. "I wish I could, but it's not enough, I'm sorry."

He watched Gibbs stare right back at him for a very long time, never moving, never even blinking. It was only after the first tear trickled down onto the older man's cheek that Tony found himself able to move. He stepped towards the other man and then pulled his arms around him. Gibbs let him this time as he buried his face in Tony's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Tony mumbled. "I love you, but I can't do this. I'm so sorry."

"N-no," Gibbs replied equally quiet, his voice muffled by the fabric of Tony's shirt. "'m s-sorry. I wish I remembered."

They didn't speak afterwards. They just continued to stand there for a very long time, holding on to each other for dear life. In fact, Tony could still feel the other man's arm around him, could still smell the other guy when he was already lying in bed in Ziva's guest room hours later as he desperately tried to keep his tears from falling. He knew that he had made the right decision, had done the right thing for himself and maybe even for Jethro. What he didn't understand was why it had to hurt so damn much, why the other man's… everything still clung to him, seemingly not wanting to let go. He just wanted it to be gone, wanted to forget about it all and finally wanted to fall asleep without dreaming of the other man.

His subconscious mind, though, wouldn't do him that particular favor for another five weeks.

* * *

_A/N: That's the last chapter of Part III... last part should be up pretty soon, too. Thanks for reading._


	18. Part IV Constructing: Inception

_A/N: Thanks again for your awesome reviews!_

* * *

**Part IV: Constructing**

Chapter One:_ Inception_

In retrospect, Tony wasn't quite sure how he had survived the couple of weeks that followed. The others had done their best to keep him distracted without being too obvious about it, but it had only helped him through the first two weeks until he had given it up. He couldn't pretend to enjoy himself when he was out clubbing with Abby or at a much quieter bar with McGee. He couldn't pretend to look after beautiful women and couldn't pretend that he was sleeping well at night. Knowing that the others were growing concerned about him, he tried to plaster a smile on his face whenever he was around them, hoping to fool them at least to a certain degree. He had done it before after all. He could play the class clown and everybody would be satisfied. He still was doing it from time to time, but it didn't work quite that well anymore. Maybe it was because his new role as team leader or because the others simply knew him too well by now. It hardly matter anyway. They all knew that he was suffering and they all knew that he had to go through it on his own.

It would have been easier if there were any improvements at all, but there simply was nothing. He was still preoccupied with not thinking about Gibbs and was still hardly sleeping because he either couldn't fall asleep or would wake up from one dream of the guy or another. Sometimes he would wake up screaming whenever the well-known nightmare of the perp with the baseball bat threatened to eat him up alive. Fortunately, Ziva never heard him or at least pretended not to. She had done so much for him those last couple of weeks that Tony sometimes wondered how he had earned all of it. She was never impatient with him, never asked him to leave her apartment and she would just sit with him at night, watching one movie or another, just being there for him in case he needed her. But Tony knew that it was time to move on – and move out. He couldn't stay at her place forever, he was hogging all her leisure time and stealing the time she would have normally spent with Lucas. She never complained, but Tony knew that he needed to get out there.

McGee had volunteered his apartment without being asked in the first place and that was why Tony and Abby were on their way to bring his stuff to Tim's place now. It wasn't much, only most of his suits and his DVDs because the rest of his stuff was still at Gibbs'. He hadn't been there since Jethro had asked him to be friends, too afraid to cave after all. It didn't mean that he didn't miss him because he did, did it so much - too much for his own good - but he simply couldn't bring himself to see him.

"Have you looked at new apartments, yet?" Abby asked, interrupting his gloomy thoughts.

Tony felt himself stiffen up for a moment before he forcefully relaxed and shook his head.

"No."

"Why not?" Abby said, sideways glancing at him.

"I don't know. I think," Tony slowly answered, trying to find the right words for the chaos that was his mind these days. "It would be like giving up, you know. Moving out from Gibbs' would mean that I admitted defeat."

"I know," Abby replied softly, squeezing his thigh for a moment before she continued. "But you have to move on eventually, Tony."

Feeling his insides clench at the mere thought of it, Tony trained his eyes on the road in front of them, trying to relax in order not to let her see how much this conversation was eating up his last hope.

"I can't just yet, Abs. I'm not ready."

"Fair enough," the Goth answered so quietly that Tony chanced a sideway glance at her.

She was staring at him intently, her brows knitted, her expression serious. She remained silent for a while and just when Tony thought that she would drop the topic, she started talking again, her tone of voice more empathic than before.

"Don't fool yourself for too long, okay?"

"Is that what I'm doing? Fooling myself?" Tony asked as he pulled over into a free parking space in front of McGee's apartment complex.

"I don't know, but when has Gibbs ever changed his mind about anything before?"

"Never," Tony answered, wishing they had never opened that particular can of worms. "But he's not the old Gibbs anymore, either. He's not the same than before."

"I know, Tony," Abby replied and took his hand in hers. "I just don't want to see you get hurt again. I thought it was your decision not to be friends with him?"

"It was," Tony all but whispered. "It was. And I don't really think that he'll come around and want to be with me. I know that it won't happen. But as long as my stuff is still over there, there's this tiny little hope somewhere that maybe things will get back to normal, you know? I know it's stupid, I know that, but I'm just not ready to put the definite end to it all. I'm just not there yet."

"Okay, but be careful, okay?" Abby whispered and then kissed his cheek. "Don't hurt yourself in the process.

.

A couple of weeks with no word from Gibbs, with hot case after hot case and quiet evenings watching movies with McGee, Tony couldn't help but realize that he was slowly but steadily degrading. He was tired all the time, wasn't up for anything but work and his movies. It was hard for him to even make a joke and he didn't know how to change it around again. McGee and the others were trying hard with him and he appreciated it, but they somehow never managed to make him feel better. Tony had thought that it would get better with time, but as far as he could see it had only gotten worse. Work had been the only useful distraction and he had come to realize that he loved being the team lead when the others actually followed his orders. The cases had kept them busy those last couple of weeks, leaving them barely with a second to catch their breaths.

.

"DiNozzo, my office," Vance startled him out of his thoughts about his latest case report one Wednesday evening.

Casting a fugitive glance at both Ziva and McGee, who just shrugged, Tony hurried to get up the stairs and into the director's office, trying to recall all the recent cases and where he could have made any mistake. But when he entered the office, he was surprised that Vance was sitting on the couch, gesturing him to do the same. So, Tony sat down on one of the chairs opposite from him, raising an eyebrow in question. Vance gave him a quick smirk before he handed him the four files that had been lying on the table between them.

"Here are the four candidates for the open spot on your team. Read them carefully, talk to Agents David and McGee and then let me know your decision by Monday."

"Wait, wait," Tony spoke up, his eyes still resting on the file on top which read 'Ned Dorneget'. "What do you mean, open spot on my team?"

"I thought it was time to replace Gibbs, DiNozzo. He's not coming back after all and the three of you are missing a teammate."

"What do you mean, he's not coming back?" Tony checked back, feeling his heart picking up pace.

Vance looked at him for a moment, furrowing his brow before he slowly answered. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"He resigned last week due to medical reasons. He's retired, DiNozzo."

Tony stared at him for a moment or two, trying to wrap his head around the possibility of Gibbs not coming back. He knew that it had been quite obvious that he wouldn't be, but why hadn't he told him, why had nobody told Tony that he had finally decided to take that step? Why did he have to learn through Vance of all people?

"Like hell he is," he finally mumbled and then without another glance at Vance left his office.

He ran down the stairs and grabbed his coat and bag, murmuring something about calling him when something came up to Ziva and McGee before he stormed towards the elevators. Half an hour later he pulled over into the driveway of Gibbs' house, waiting in vain for the omnipresent pain in his chest whenever he thought about anything related to the older man. It didn't come this time and Tony realized that he was too angry and too disappointed to feel sad right now, so he got out of the car and then determinedly made his way into the house. He was already halfway towards the basement when he realized that Gibbs, strangely enough, was sitting on his couch watching some James Bond movie starring Sean Connery. Trying to hide his surprise, Tony changed his route and went over into the living room, placing himself between Jethro and the television. Gibbs just looked up at him, the faintest of a smile on his face before he composed his features and sat up.

"You resigned?" Tony finally inquired.

Gibbs stared at him for a moment or two, his expression impassive before he finally shrugged and then nodded.

"Why?"

"Why?" Gibbs replied, his voice strong and sure. "I c-can hardly g-go out into the field anymore."

Tony looked at him and then nodded, realizing that he was right after all. His left leg was still not at its old level and probably never would be again, but that was still no reason to resign from NCIS completely.

"You could do desk work," he finally said, not even knowing why he wanted to persuade the guy to stay when it almost physically hurt just to look at him.

"C-Come one, I c-can't do desk work. I would go c-crazy. You wouldn't do it, either."

Tony continued to stare at him, trying to suppress the sudden feeling of pride that threatened to well up inside of him due to the guy's much improved articulation. He hadn't thought that it would get back to almost normal so soon.

"I would," he finally answered, anger replacing pride in an instant. "In fact, I have done nothing but paper work most of last year in order to be… there for you."

Gibbs remained silent and let out a sigh as he sank back into the cushions of his couch, rubbing a hand over his face.

"S-sorry?" he finally offered, but Tony just shook his head.

"No. It doesn't matter anymore," the younger man pressed out. "You could teach FLETC classes."

"That's what Vance t-told me, t-too. But," Gibbs stopped for a moment, his eyes finally locking into Tony's. "I c-can't even t-talk right now and… I don't think head slaps are an appropriate t-teaching m-method."

Tony almost let out a laugh at that but held it back just in time. He didn't want to laugh, even if this was the first joke he had heard Gibbs tell since his coma. Trying to fight down the well-known feeling of loneliness, he tried to focus on what he had come here to say. It didn't matter that Gibbs' reasons were prudent. He couldn't just go away from NCIS like that.

"So that's it? You're giving up? Just like that?"

"What else is there?" Gibbs replied indignantly as he stared right back at Tony, his expression giving away nothing for the moment.

"What else is there?" Tony all but shouted now. "_We_ are there! McGee, Abby, Ziva, Ducky! You want to give all of that up? You want to throw away everything that _is_ you?"

Gibbs never moved, had not even flinched at the shouted words as he just continued to look into Tony's eyes.

"Fine!" Tony finally continued. "Fine, go ahead. Do it. Just don't ask us what we think, don't even tell us that you want to leave. It doesn't matter. Apparently we're not that important to you. Just walk away from us and everything that ever mattered to you."

He stared at the older man for a moment longer waiting for something that never came before he huffed and then turned to leave. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw Gibbs move after all, reaching out for Tony's forearm, but he was quicker this time and pulled it away from him.

"Tony," Gibbs finally said without his usual stutter.

"What?"

"I wanted to c-call you."

That stopped Tony from walking out for the time being as he turned around, seeing Gibbs shakily get to his feet.

"Then why didn't you?" he eventually asked, barely above a whisper. "Why didn't you?"

"I didn't know whether you wanted m-me t-to," Gibbs replied equally quiet, taking a step towards him. "You don't want t-to be f-friends, I just didn't know whether you… whether you…"

The younger man stared at him for a long time unsure how to even answer. Gibbs was right, of course, he had told him that he didn't want to be friends.

"You're right," he finally mumbled. "I guess it really is none of my business. I just… I just… I don't know."

"I did want t-to c-call you," Gibbs replied, taking another step towards him. "I was p-planning on t-telling the others this week. I just didn't know how t-to t-tell you."

"Look Gibbs," Tony finally got out of his headspace. "You can tell me stuff like that. I mean… This stuff is important and I don't want you to feel like you couldn't talk to me. Just because I can't do this friends thing right now, doesn't mean that I don't ever want to talk to you."

Now that he had said it, Tony realized that it was true. He actually really did want to talk to Gibbs, even if it was still weird and rather painful to do. Maybe it would get better with time...

"'Kay," Gibbs interrupted his thoughts as he sank down onto the couch.

"And you're really set in your decision?"

"Yeah."

"But," Tony started but was rudely interrupted by his cell phone, flashing the number of Dispatch. "Damn it," he swore quietly before he picked up, knowing that he would never finish that particular conversation with Gibbs now.

.

A couple of weeks had passed since his visit to Gibbs', with McGee, Ziva and Tony making the decision to give Dorneget a shot on their team as they were already kind of friends with him anyway, and with a couple of stressful cases. Tony couldn't refrain from realizing, though, that not much had changed within him despite all the changes that had happened around him. He was still too focused on work, was still too quiet for his own good to such a degree that Ziva and McGee had started glancing at each other again whenever they thought he wasn't looking. The fact that Abby insisted to go out with him more than usually hadn't slipped his attention, either, but somehow he just didn't care about any of it. It simply didn't matter. Neither Abby, nor McGee or Ziva would be able to make it better. None of them could and Tony was even sure that even he, himself, couldn't do it. He just didn't know how. He had tried so many things already to distract himself, but nothing seemed to work. Gibbs hadn't called or visited ever since Tony had talked to him about his retirement and the younger man didn't know what it was supposed to mean. Did Gibbs just want to give him space or did he simply not want to talk to him? He guessed that he could just go talk to Ducky or Jackson or even Fornell, but he wasn't quite sure he really wanted to know what the reason for Gibbs' silence was. So he just didn't ask and didn't drive by his old home.

He simply didn't do anything.

.

Tony flopped down on his bed on a Friday evening when they had finally managed to get out of work on time for once. He had declined McGee's offer to go out and grab a couple of beers as he really just wanted to go to bed and sleep. He was tired beyond belief and was looking forward to a lazy weekend staying in and watching a couple of movies.

A couple of hours later, he restlessly drifted in and out of sleep like he always did when he was suddenly able to hear faint voices just outside his bedroom. He hadn't heard someone ringing the bell of knocking at the door, but it didn't matter much. He wasn't interested in any late night visitors coming to McGee's. It was none of his business anyway. Trying to fall back asleep, Tony closed his eyes and was just about to turn around when a familiar voice reached his ears.

"C-can I t-talk t-to him?" he heard Gibbs say and Tony finally sat up and then quietly made his way towards the door, but didn't dare to open it just yet.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Gibbs," McGee was answering at the moment, to Tony's surprise with an air of authority in his voice that he hadn't heard directed at Gibbs before.

"Why the hell not?" the older man inquired now and Tony could picture the furious look on his face that he always got whenever he was impatient and rather furious.

"He's already asleep," McGee just replied, his voice still smooth and calm and for a brief moment Tony wondered when the younger agent had found the courage to speak up to Gibbs like that.

"It's n-not even n-nine," Jethro said now and chancing a quick look at this watch, Tony realized that he was right, it was only 2100, despite the fact that Tony had been in bed for hours.

"Yeah, well," Tim just said. "Want do you want from him?"

"T-talk to him."

"What about?"

"N-none of your damn b-business."

"Oh," McGee replied and his voice was still not shaky and it suddenly made Tony all fuzzy inside. "It's none of my business? I think it is, Gibbs, because the guy has been staying at my place for weeks now. At first I thought it would be fun having him around and that he would drive me crazy because he's messy and stuff. But you know what? He's none of these things. He cleans up after himself when he comes home from work, he even does my dishes without complaint and then he just shuts himself into my guest room. He doesn't do anything, Gibbs, and I have no idea how to help him because he simply doesn't want me to help. Or anyone for that matter. He just doesn't let us. So you're saying that it's none of my business what you want to tell him? Think again because he _is_ my business right now."

Tony let his forehead fall against the door now as the other two remained silent in the other room. He tried to hold back the tears that threatened to slip through his eyelids. He hadn't realized before just how much McGee cared about him and how worried he really was. Why did Tony always give him the runabout when he wanted to do something with him? Was it really that hard to go out for a couple of beers once in a while? He was startled out of thoughts, though, when Gibbs finally spoke up again, much softer than before.

"I thought you wanted m-me t-to t-talk t-to him?"

"I did," McGee replied, his voice quieter, too. "But that was before I realized… I mean… Gibbs, he's depressed, really depressed and we all know why that is. I know it's not your fault, okay? I know that and I also know you didn't mean to, but I just… I just think it wouldn't be a good idea for you to talk to him right now. Whatever it is you want to tell him."

"McGee," Gibbs started, but then fell silent again and Tony would have given his left arm to see his expression right now because he sounded so broken that it almost broke his heart.

Then, he realized that he just had to open the door to see him and just as he was about to do exactly that, his hand already resting on the handle, McGee finally spoke up again.

"I really don't think it's a good idea. I'll tell him you stopped by, okay?"

"No need to," Tony said, opening the door, causing McGee to jump ever so slightly.

Tim turned around to look at him, worry clearly visible on his face. He searched for eye contact and then apparently found what he had been looking for in Tony's face because he simply nodded and then disappeared into his own bedroom in order to give them some privacy.

"Hey," Tony finally turned to look at Gibbs, his heart stuttering as he realized that Gibbs was wearing one of his old OSU hoodies.

"Hi," Gibbs just said, giving him the slightest of smiles while all the while his eyes were looking rather sadly at him.

"What's up?" Tony finally said when the older man made no move to explain his sudden appearance.

"I… wanted t-to t-talk t-to you."

"Okay. Then talk."

"Tony," Gibbs started, his eyes locking into the younger man's as he made a step towards him. "I… want t-to… I m-mean…"

"What, Gibbs?" Tony asked, the older man's sudden nervousness making him restless. "What is it?"

"M-miss you," Gibbs pressed out after a moment of prolonged silence, causing Tony to take a step back, his heart once again picking up pace.

"Gibbs," he finally answered, his voice shaky all of a sudden. "We've talked about this… it's not enough. Please, don't do this to me again."

"N-no," the older man replied, reducing the space between them. "I m-miss you, m-miss you."

"I don't think I understand," Tony said, his pulse suddenly rushing loudly through his ears as he felt his breaths coming rather shallowly.

He couldn't do this again, he couldn't have the same conversation with the other man when the last one had nearly killed him. He didn't understand why Gibbs would want to talk about it again when there was really nothing left to discuss.

"Listen, Tony," Gibbs started over, his eyes never leaving Tony's. "'m m-miserable without you. These last c-couple of weeks have b-been… n-not great. I m-miss having you around. I wish I would re-remember, I really d-do. But I… c-can't."

"It doesn't change anything, Jethro," Tony mumbled, casting his eyes down, unable to look at him any longer. "You already told me all of this."

"N-no, you d-don't understand," Gibbs vehemently disagreed with him, causing him to look up after all. "What I want t-to say is that I m-might n-not remember us or what we used t-to be, but I know that I m-miss you n-now. I have f-fallen in l-love with you before… so why sh-shouldn't I be able t-to… t-to do that again?"

Tony stared at him, his eyes wide as he let the words sink in slowly. He felt like crying, felt like grabbing the guy by the collar of his shirt and throw him out of the apartment and felt like just breaking down there and then. But he didn't do any of these things. He just kept on standing there, staring at the other man, whose cheeks were slightly flushed, whose hand was grabbing his cane so tightly that his knuckles had turned white again and whose eyes were so bright that for a moment, Tony thought he could lose himself in them for all times to come.

"Jethro," he finally said. "What… I mean… why?"

"Miss you," the older man just shrugged.

"What do you want?" Tony whispered, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that McGee was likely to eavesdrop on their conversation. "I mean… what are you asking?"

"'m asking you for a d-date, I guess. And f-for another chance. The l-last one."

Tony remained silent once again as he stared at the older man, trying to decide whether he actually was awake and not having one of those cruel nightmares when his subconscious mind wanted to deceive him that Gibbs indeed wanted to have him back.


	19. Part IV Constructing: Initiation

_A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews! I'm sorry that I didn't have the time to reply to you all individually, but your kind words are so very much appreciated! :) Thanks._

* * *

Chapter Two: _Initiation_

"You're asking me for a date?" Tony finally checked back, making sure that he was actually awake and not still sleeping.

"Yeah," Gibbs replied, looking highly uncomfortable by now as if he was dreading Tony's answer all of a sudden.

Tony continued to stare at the older man for a very long time, trying to find a way to calm down his heart and his pulse. He felt oddly light-headed and didn't even know why that was. Wasn't this what he had been waiting for all along? Wasn't this the reason he had refused to search for a new apartment? Wasn't this the reason why Abby had scolded him for fooling himself? It was strange because now that Gibbs was here, offering him what he had desperately hoped for, he felt strangely enough rather empty.

"What if you don't?" he finally asked so quietly that Gibbs took a slightly shaky step forward, tightly holding on to his cane, which was new, Tony noticed, one made out of wood.

"D-don't ask you for a d-date?"

"No," Tony replied, realizing that that question had only made sense in his head. "I mean… what if you don't fall in love with me again? What if you can't?"

Gibbs stared at him for a moment and for a split second it seemed like he wanted to reach out to him, but like so many times before he refrained from doing so and subtly shook his head.

"I d-don't know that, Tony, but… I just think… I wouldn't m-miss you like I d-do right now… if… if we…"

"If we were just friends?" Tony finished the sentence for him and felt something inside of him dissolve at Gibb's nod.

"Yeah," Gibbs just answered and the younger man noticed that his cheeks had turned slightly pink.

Just as he started to marvel at the fact that the older man never used to do blush before, Tony realized that they had rarely ever talked about stuff like that and that was maybe the reason why. Gibbs had never been good at the talking part of the relationship, so Tony had mostly provided it and gladly at that. The older guy had always talked louder through his actions than through his words and that had been fine with Tony. It did, however, suddenly make Jethro's statement even more loaded. Trying to give him a smile, Tony ran a hand through his hair, probably messing it up big time. He remained silent, though, not knowing what he was supposed to say now.

"So?" Gibbs finally followed up on his earlier question, causing Tony to finally look him into the eyes again.

"Maybe," he said softly and felt the guilt settle in somewhat when he saw Jethro's face fall ever so slightly, so he hurried to continue. "I mean, if I can. I just need time, okay?"

"'Kay," Gibbs replied, the smallest of smiles appearing on his lips. "L-let me know when you know?"

"Sure."

Once again, they remained silent for what seemed to be a very long time, spending it just looking at each other before Tony finally cleared his throat loudly, knowing that they couldn't possibly stay like that forever.

"How did you come here?" he asked, realizing only now that Gibbs wasn't allowed to drive with his leg these days.

"T-took a c-cab."

"Want me to drive you home? It's getting kind of late."

"Would be g-good."

"Okay, uh, let me just grab some jeans," Tony felt his cheeks grow hot ever so slightly as he realized that he was wearing nothing but boxer shorts and an old t-shirt, but Gibbs either hadn't minded or hadn't noticed.

"'Kay."

Tony gave him a smile and then hurried to get back into the bedroom and dress himself, not even knowing why he was so keen on being alone with the guy all of a sudden. Maybe it was the fact that McGee was most likely to listen in on their conversation and he wanted to get away from him or maybe it was simply the fact that he wanted to spend time with Jethro, even after everything that had happened. But that didn't mean that he was sure that dating him was a good idea. He loved the thought of it, had even dreamed of it, but something inside him held him back. He didn't know yet what it was exactly, but he would need time to figure it out.

.

They spent most of the drive in silence and to Tony's surprise it was a rather comfortable one for once, not like all the quietness back when Gibbs had first gotten home from the hospital.

"And you really mean it?" he finally said, glancing at the older man and saw him jump ever so slightly as if he had just been preoccupied with his own thoughts and hadn't expected him to start talking again.

"Yeah. R-really mean it, T-Tony."

"Okay," he turned his head and gave him a smile. "Why so suddenly, though? What brought this up?"

"I d-don't know," Jethro answered rather reluctantly after a moment's thought. "L-like I said, I m-miss you and I've b-been looking at p-pictures of us and Abby… she v-visited m-me quite a lot and she always t-tells me how… happy we were. And I… I want it back."

"How can you want it back when you don't even know what it was like?" Tony inquired just as he pulled into the driveway of Gibbs' house.

"I m-might not remember," Jethro slowly answered, his eyes locking into Tony's. "B-but you d-do and m-maybe we c-can get me to remember us, t-too… or g-get new… m-memories."

.

When Tony opened the door to McGee's apartment almost an hour later, he was still reeling from the talk in the car. He couldn't help but feel all tingly inside at the prospect of actually creating new memories with Jethro, even if the phrasing had sounded suspiciously like Abby's. It didn't matter much, though, because the older guy would never say something he didn't want to, so Tony didn't particularly care. It was the sentiment that counted and it was enough for the moment. He let himself in and then almost let out a cry of surprise as he spotted McGee sit on his couch, staring at him with a rather gloomy expression, sitting there much too still.

"Fuck, McGee," Tony breathed out. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry," the younger man just shrugged, looking at him seriously. "I just wanted to wait for you. Wasn't entirely sure you'd come home tonight."

"Well, thanks Mom," Tony started to joke before he realized that he had indeed come _home_.

Funny, how that fact had changed so quickly. Brushing away the uncomfortable thought for the moment, he flopped down on the couch next to McGee, knowing that he wanted to talk to him.

"So, you'll go back to him?" Tim asked straightforwardly, very much like he had spoken to Gibbs earlier that evening.

"I don't know," Tony answered truthfully. "Do you think I should?"

"Not my decision to make."

"Yeah, I know… but hypothetically… I mean, you did tell him to talk to me?"

"Yeah, couple of weeks ago," McGee admitted, fixing his glance at the blank TV screen in front of him. "We all have, I guess."

"Why?"

"Why? You're asking? Have you looked at yourself lately? No offense, but you're such a mess. I mean, you're great at work and all, but whenever you get here, it seems like you're just… I don't know… falling apart, I guess. That's why I thought it would be good for you to talk to him. I wasn't so sure tonight, though."

"Why?" Tony repeated his question, once again feeling the well-known guilt in his stomach that he had let McGee clean up his mess like that.

"Because I don't know if it's prudent for you to… start dating or whatever you're planning to do, that's all. I'm just concerned, okay? Didn't mean to interfere with anything."

"You didn't," Tony replied slowly, leaning against the backrest of the couch, fixing his glance on the ceiling. "And thanks."

"That's okay," McGee replied and Tony felt him fidget ever so slightly next to him.

"So, you think I shouldn't go back to him?" Tony finally asked.

"No, I mean… I hope you'll make the right decision, that's all. It's just hard to imagine what you'd do if he really doesn't remember you or if he really doesn't want to get back together, you know? You've been so depressed these last few weeks that I can't imagine how bad it would get, you know?"

Tony turned his head to look at the younger agent, feeling his heart pick up pace again. This was why he had been reluctant to say yes straight away. This was why he had wanted to talk to Tim after all. He needed another opinion on this.

"I know," he finally said. "But I don't think I can live with the what-if. I think I really need to know if this still could work because otherwise I'll always ask myself I made the wrong decision, you know?"

"I get that," Tim nodded, finally looking at him. "That was why I wanted him to talk to you a couple of weeks ago. You really just needed someone and I knew that he was the only one you ever talked to. Even before you got together, it was always Gibbs that was the best at… I don't know giving advice or whatever and I knew that nothing I or Abby or Ziva said to you would make any difference."

Tony stared at him for a long while after that, trying to blink away the tears that had formed themselves just beneath his eyelids once again. He managed to keep them from falling this time as he let the thought settle in that he would have to start trusting the younger man with stuff like that. He had done nothing but to be there for him those last couple of weeks and maybe even months, and Tony suddenly felt his heart sink as he realized that he would never be able to pay him back.

"I…," he finally started unsure of what to say. "I… thanks, Tim, for all of it."

"Hey," McGee just grinned as he stood up. "That's what friends are for, right? So, uh, can I interest you in a movie tonight? Still haven't seen the new _Batman_."

"Ah, the return of the McGeek," Tony just replied, getting to his feet to browse through his DVDs.

.

By Wednesday Tony had finally made up his mind. Deep down he had probably always known that he would go out on that date with Jethro, but his mind hadn't caught up with it until late on Tuesday night when he had lain in bed, realizing that he was actually all tingly inside at the mere prospect of it. He had no clue what to expect, had no clue if it was really healthy for him to go back to Gibbs' house and watch a movie or eat cowboy-style steaks. Hell, he didn't even know if that was what Jethro wanted, but he would go along with anything anyway.

Stealing himself away from Dorneget and McGee who were huddled around Tim's computer to look at whatever – he supposed he didn't really want to know – he reached for his cell phone, pushed speed dial number one and waited for Jethro to pick up. It took a couple of rings before he was finally able to hear the other man's voice on the other line.

"Hey," Tony greeted him. "How you're doing?"

"'m fine," Gibbs replied. "You?"

"Same, basically," he lied effortlessly because he was in fact feeling rather queasy at the moment. "Listen, about that date… I'm going to take you up on that."

"Yeah?" Gibbs asked and Tony could almost hear the smile through the phone.

"Yup. What do you want to do?"

"Thought I'd t-take you out to d-dinner somewhere."

Slightly taken aback by that offer, Tony remained silent for a moment before he got himself together and answered.

"You sure? I mean… uh… we never used to do that."

"We d-didn't?"

"No," Tony replied, chuckling soundlessly at the obvious surprise in the other man's voice. "First we had to make sure that nobody would actually see us because of our job and stuff and once we were out, we usually just stayed in, you know."

"'Kay," Gibbs answered thoughtfully. "B-but that was before, r-right?"

Tony felt his heart sink at those last words, realizing that this was the reason he felt so queasy. He didn't want something new – not really. He wanted the old stuff back. Wanted their old relationship back, wanted to have the old easiness between them back. But he only realized now that it wasn't likely to happen like that. The chances that Jethro's memory would come back completely after all this time were almost zero and while he had learned to somewhat accept that thought a long time ago, it hadn't really hit him until now. But it hardly even mattered at the moment. Jethro wanted to take him out on a date, wanted to make it somewhat alright with him and Tony would never put an end to that attempt without even trying.

"T-Tony?" Gibbs interrupted his thoughts and only now did the younger man realize that he still hadn't answered.

"You're right," he finally replied. "You free on Friday?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'll pick you up at 7.30 then?"

"Sounds g-good."

.

When Tony pulled into Gibbs' driveway at 7.30 sharp, he wondered when he had last been that nervous because of a date. He had been restless all day, had all but prayed that no new case would wash up and then had stormed out of the office in order to get home as quickly as possible. McGee hadn't commented on the various outfits he had tried on or on the way he had tried to restyle his hair a couple of times, but he had smirked quite a lot. Secretly, Tony was glad that the younger man seemed to be okay with him going on that date with Gibbs. He had known that McGee had been reluctant for all the right reasons, but he had never brought up the topic again and Tony had taken it as his silent connivance.

Quickly checking his reflection in the mirror, Tony was about to get out of the car when he saw Gibbs walking towards him. He was wearing black slacks and white button-down shirt and Tony couldn't help but notice that he was actually looking good. He had only seen him in casual clothes, sweats mostly, ever since he had gotten home from the hospital, so this was a nice change. He smiled at him as Gibbs opened the door and then sat down on the passenger seat.

"So, where am I taking you?" he asked straightforwardly.

"You know R-Rustico?"

"Of course, I do," Tony replied as he reversed the car out of the driveway and onto the streets. "Best pizza there is."

"W-we can go someplace else, t-too," Gibbs said with a slight note of uncertainty in his voice that made Tony momentarily take his eyes off the road to look at the older man instead.

"No, Rustico's just fine. I love their food. Perfect choice."

"G-Good," Gibbs just replied before they settled in a rather uncomfortable silence.

Tony didn't know how to break it, so he kept his focus on the road, trying to find a way to ease up the tangible tension between them.

"So, uh," he finally started. "Ducky tells me you're making progress with that leg of yours?"

"Yeah, I c-can walk a c-couple of steps without this stupid thing."

He indicated at the cane and Tony nodded, only now realizing how much the older man had to hate it, hate it to be dependent on something like that.

"That's great," Tony replied awkwardly. "You made it yourself, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Gibbs nodded, staring out the windshield. "'s n-not like I have m-much else t-to d-do these d-days."

"Right," the younger man just said before silence continued to prevail again.

.

They hardly talked to each other until they had already placed their orders and had spent the next five minutes or so staring at each other uncomfortably. Tony knew that it was his job to get the conversation up and running, but somehow his brain seemed to be slow-witted tonight and he wasn't able to come up with anything. Maybe it was because he was so nervous or maybe it was because he didn't want to talk about something that would make the other man uncomfortable. He wasn't sure if the guy wanted to talk about their past or if he wanted to talk about work or whatever. So, he just sat there, staring at Gibbs, feeling more restless with every moment that passed.

Finally, after the waiter had already brought them their drinks, Gibbs cleared his throat, took a sip from his water and then spoke up.

"This is… awkward."

Tony let out a bark of a laugh, realizing that he should have probably known that Gibbs would just state the obvious.

"Yeah, it is. Sorry."

"D-don't be," Gibbs gave him a slight smile. "What d-did we use t-to t-talk about?"

"Oh, I don't know. Everything. Work, Abby's latest quirks, Vance's stupidity. Everything and nothing, I guess."

"V-Vance's stupidity?" Gibbs smirked ever so slightly and Tony felt something in his stomach flutter because that expression was so familiar to him that it almost hurt.

"Yeah, you know. Just general stuff."

"B-But he helped?"

"Yeah, he did," Tony replied thoughtfully, thinking back to the last year and how Vance had been there for them. "He's been great actually."

"Yeah," Gibbs nodded and they fell silent again as the waiter placed their plates onto the table in front of them. "How d-did he f-find out?"

"Find out what?" Tony asked around a mouthful of pizza.

"Us," Gibbs replied. "You t-told m-me that we had t-to hide before."

"Yeah, that's right. We had really managed to keep it quiet for about half a year or so until Abby almost walked in on us on a Sunday afternoon. God, I'll never forget her face as she saw us making out on the couch in your living room. She looked just like the overly surprised characters in the cartoons. And well, then we kind of had to tell the rest of the team, too, because you know how Abby can't keep a secret that big even if her life depended on it."

"They were c-cool with us?" Gibbs asked now, his expression rather indifferent, but Tony was able to see through the ruse immediately as it was the exact look on his face he was always sporting when he really wanted to know about something.

"Pretty much, yeah. I think Palmer couldn't look you in the eye for months and McGee needed about a week to close his mouth after the surprise, but all in all they've been pretty supportive. It was really great actually."

"Yeah," Gibbs just replied. "And V-Vance, t-too? I was your b-boss."

"He found out when he heard Ziva and McGee talking. He was pretty furious and wanted to transfer me at first."

"What changed his m-mind?"

"No clue. One day he was all pissed and the next he calls us to his office and we were really prepared for it, you know. Had all kinds of pros and cons up our sleeves and then he's just like your stats haven't gone down and the team seems to be working just fine. He never told us what or who had changed his mind, but maybe it actually was our solve rate… or his wife. Who knows?"

"B-bet it was Jackie," Gibbs spoke up, chuckling and then fell silent all of a sudden as his eyes widened ever so slightly.

"What is it?" Tony asked, putting down his fork and knife to look at the other man, who had furrowed his brow now, more closely.

"N-nothing," Gibbs replied, but his expression was telling a totally different story.

"That's not nothing," Tony pressed on, trying to get eye contact again. "You just remembered something, didn't you?"

"'m n-not sure," Gibbs slowly answered, finally taking a bite of his lasagna. "There is something 'bout Leon's wife, b-but I d-don't know what it is."

"That's okay," Tony tried to reassure him because he was having that slightly panicked expression on his face again as always when he couldn't connect the dots in his mind. "It'll come back, I'm sure."

"Yeah," Gibbs just replied, attempting to give him a smile before continued to eat his dinner.

.

The rest of the dinner went by in no time and Tony caught himself actually having fun. Gibbs still seemed a bit uncomfortable and maybe a bit freaked out, but Tony contributed that to the fact that he only half remembered something about Vance's wife and not that he didn't want to be there with him. He drove him home afterwards and while they were mostly silent on the ride, it wasn't awkward like the drive to the restaurant had been. They were now merely letting the evening fade away into night and Tony, for once, didn't feel the need to talk. The date had been nice, despite the rocky beginning and had proved to him that all was not lost for them just yet. He didn't know what Jethro was thinking about, but he thought that he probably wasn't too freaked out about their evening. So when Tony stopped the engine on the driveway of Gibbs' house a little while later, he wasn't entirely surprised when Gibbs gave him a smile as he reached for the door handle.

"C-can we d-do this again?" he asked and he sounded so unsure of himself once again that Tony had to hold himself back to not reach over and cup his face to reassure him.

"Yeah," Tony hurried to reply, eager to see that smile back on the other man's face and he did him the favor after a short moment. "I had fun tonight. I'd love to go on a second date with you."

"G-Good," Jethro just replied, then reached out and squeezed his shoulder for a short moment, sending an unexpected shiver down Tony's spine before he got out of the car without another word.

Tony watched him walk slowly towards the house and realized that he did indeed want to go on a second date. It was strange to go out like that, considering the fact that they had been together for three years, but it was most certainly the right thing for Gibbs to do. And maybe it was even right for Tony. Maybe he would have to get to know the other guy as he was now and would have to stop looking for the man he had used to be.

Jethro simply wasn't the guy he had been only eight months ago anymore and maybe Tony would have to learn to love the new Gibbs. He knew that he could most certainly do it and he prayed to any god that would listen to him that Gibbs would do the same in return.

* * *

_A/N: Hope you liked it ;)_


	20. Part IV Constructing: Recollection

_A/N: Thanks so much for your reviews! :)_

* * *

Chapter Three: _Recollection_

A few weeks later Tony couldn't help but realize that he was doing better in comparison. He probably still had a long way ahead of him to be happy again, but it seemed to be almost enough for the moment. Gibbs and he had gone out to dates a couple of times, talked to each other over the phone almost daily and while Tony liked the fact that there were somewhat getting back on track, he wasn't quite sure what to do with this newly found friendship kind of thing. He hadn't wanted to be friends with the guy, but he had had to realize that they were heading dangerously towards the friend-zone these days. While Gibbs really seemed to put an effort into getting to know him again and getting closer to him, it somehow left Tony emptier with every date they went on. He wanted to talk to the guy again, wanted to spend time with him and still it all left him unsatisfied. But maybe it would have to be enough for now. He couldn't make Jethro love him, he couldn't force himself on him and maybe they weren't meant to be lovers again. Perhaps this was a possibility that he would have to accept in the end. But it didn't mean that he would give up that easily.

Despite the frustration of not really getting anywhere with Gibbs, Tony was doing a lot better. Even he, himself, noticed that he was much less moody, wasn't that tired anymore and actually enjoyed doing stuff again. He suddenly had fun in noisy clubs with Abby and laughed at her when the worst possible guy wanted to dance with her. He loved going to Ziva's again, playing board games and getting to know her boyfriend, who turned out to be a really great guy. Tony was happy for her because Ziva really deserved someone who she could trust and rely on after everything she had been through and Lucas seemed to be the right guy for that. The others seemed to have noticed the change in him, too, and weren't fixing him with concerned glances all the time, even Tim, who had never mentioned their talk on the night Gibbs had first asked him out again, seemed to have accepted that it had apparently been the right decision.

And indeed, it had been right giving Gibbs another chance. For Tony's sanity that was. For all the other stuff, he wasn't quite so sure about, but he would go along with it as long as Gibbs would want him to. It was as simple as that. Even if that meant going out on dates where the older man would have never gone before, like the cinema to watch a Marvel adaption or to a jazz club. Through them all, however, Gibbs seemed to be genuinely interested in the stuff they were doing, genuinely happy to be with Tony, but the younger man also knew that there was still some kind of invisible barrier between them. A wall that neither of them seemed to be able to climb over. Tony desperately wanted to, though, and he wouldn't stop trying until Jethro told him not to.

.

"Probie," Tony cried out one Friday afternoon and then started to smirk when both Dorneget and McGee turned to look at him. "Sorry, I meant the McProbie, Ultraprobie."

"You know, Boss," Ned spoke up, blushing slightly. "I'm not technically a probie, you know that, right?"

"Don't start," McGee answered before Tony could, smirking ever so slightly. "You'll be Ultraprobie till the day… I don't know, till the day you die, I guess. Complaining about it will only make it more frequently used, trust me."

"He's right," Tony grinned, ignoring Ziva's snort. "Anyway, Tim, are you up for a couple of beers tonight?"

"Actually," McGee answered, blushing now, too. "I wanted to ask you whether you could… uh, you know… stay the night someplace else? I know I can't just ask that, but I kind of, uh…"

"You want to get laid tonight!" Tony cried out and stood up, going over to Tim's desk before he continued more quietly. "Who is it? The cute girl you were talking about nonstop since that night at the bar with Abby?"

"Not that it's any of your business," McGee replied, grinning at him ever so slightly. "But yes. Lilly's really nice."

"That's great, Tim," Tony replied, the teasing tone from before replaced by genuine happiness for the other guy. "I'll find somewhere to crash the night, no worries. Have fun."

"Thanks."

.

Finding a place to sleep for the night turned out to be much more difficult than he had imagined. Ziva already had plans to have a night in with Luke and Abby was having her brother and his wife over. Just as he was about to call the nearest motel, his cell phone chirped to life and Tony couldn't help the smile on his lips when Gibbs' name showed up on the display.

"Hey Jethro," he greeted the older man, already googling the phone number of the motel.

"Hi," Gibbs replied and Tony still couldn't suppress the tingly feeling in his stomach whenever Gibbs actually said hello, as he had gotten so used to his usual barks over the phone. "D-do you have any p-plans for t-tonight? I know it's short n-notice."

"Actually I haven't," Tony replied. "What do you want to do?"

"N-not sure," Gibbs replied hesitantly and Tony immediately knew that the older man was lying through his teeth because Tony knew that tone. It was the one he always used these days when he just wasn't sure how to tell him something. "W-Would you want t-to c-come over?"

Tony released a breath and ran a hand through his hair. He hadn't been in his old home ever since he had confronted Gibbs about retiring all these weeks previously. It wasn't like he didn't want to go there, but Jethro had never offered to stay in before, so Tony hadn't asked. He didn't know whether it was a step forwards, a step towards a closer relationship, but he was willing to find out.

"I'd love to," he finally replied. "Want to watch the Capitols game?"

"S-sounds good."

"Uh, Gibbs," Tony continued, anidea suddenly forming in his mind. "There's… uh… a problem. I'm kind of homeless tonight."

"How c-come?"

"McGee has this new girlfriend and he wants her to… well, you know, so he asked me if I could stay the night someplace else and I really wouldn't ask you, but Abby and Ziva are busy and…"

"It's okay," Jethro put an end to his rambling. "The c-couch's free."

"Thanks."

"Okay then, I'll be there at around seven? What do you want to eat? Chinese?"

"S-Sounds good," Jethro said again and when Tony was just about to hang up on him, he continued. "It's n-not some psycho stalker or k-killer girl this t-time, r-right?"

"No," Tony let out a laugh. "We've met her at a bar a couple of weeks ago. She seemed nice."

"S-seemed?" Gibbs replied and for a moment he sounded so alike the old impatient Gibbs that Tony's stomach made a back flip.

"Yeah," Tony slowly answered unable to hold back the grin on his lips. "And I kind of did a background check on her when Tim wasn't around."

Gibbs let out a laugh at that and then said goodbye, leaving Tony grinning at Ziva's empty desk like an idiot.

.

A couple of hours later Tony felt like he was in the Twilight Zone, so normal the evening had passed by so far. They were sitting on the couch next to each other, their shoulders touching ever so slightly, the empty cartons of Chinese discarded on the coffee table where both of their feet were now resting. It was like nothing had ever happened, as if the last year had not been existent. They had done stuff like that for what seemed like a thousands of times and Tony couldn't help but feel himself relax around the other man like he hadn't done in months. Of course, there was still the tiny little thing that Gibbs was sitting there rather stiffly and hadn't been all that talkative tonight, but Tony was used to that by now. He didn't question it anymore, knowing that Gibbs would talk about it once he was ready.

"Well, that was a waste of time," Tony said when the match finally ended with a devastating loss of the Capitols.

"S-Sure was," Jethro replied sourly before he yawned widely.

"You don't have to stay up for me, you know that, right?"

"Yeah," Gibbs said as he switched off the TV and turned to look at Tony instead. "There's something I wanted t-to t-talk to you about."

"Okay?" Tony just said, feeling his insides clench as he saw the serious expression on the other man's face. Fearing the worst, he asked, "What is it?"

"I," Jethro started, once again rather reluctantly. "D-don't t-take it the wrong way now, but why are you still d-doing this?"

"Doing what?" Tony replied confused, not knowing what the older man was zeroing in on.

"G-go out with m-me."

"Why would I stop doing that? Do you want me to stop?" Tony asked, feeling an iron fist suddenly clutching his insides.

Was Gibbs actually just breaking up with him again? After they had finally somewhat found themselves again?

"N-no," Gibbs replied so vehemently that Tony couldn't stop the small smile from forming on his lips. "I just m-meant… it must be weird for you t-to d-do it."

"It is a bit," Tony admitted. "But weird never stopped me from anything."

"B-but you d-don't have t-to," Gibbs replied and for a moment his eyes looked so haunted that Tony wanted to draw him into a tight embrace and never let go.

"I know that, Gibbs. But I want to try this because it has been so good before and maybe we'll actually get it back some time, you know."

"B-but it m-must be frustrating for you."

"It is," Tony slowly replied, looking the other man in the eyes, momentarily losing himself in the bright blue. "But I hope it will be worth it in the end. That is if you want it, too. Because, well, if you think it's weird or something, I'd understand."

"N-No, n-not weird," Gibbs replied, leaning a bit away from him now. "I just n-never understood why you would d-do it."

"Do what? Spend time with you? I love spending time with you, Jethro. I love talking to you and you want to know why? Because I love you, it's as simple as that. I know you don't love me, at least not like that, but I can see that you're trying here and I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. When we… I mean when I told you I couldn't be friends with you, I really meant it. All the memories were eating me up alive and you not knowing about any of them just… I don't know, ripped my heart apart. It's not your fault and all, that's for sure, but back then I couldn't have done that whole friendship thing. I'm not sure whether I could do it now to be honest. But we're heading there right now, I'm not fooling myself that we aren't, and somehow it's easier now. Don't get me wrong, I don't just want to be friends with you and I really hope that you will start to see all the things that you've once seen in me, but I also know that it might not happen," Tony took a deep breath before he continued quickly, needing to get all of it off his chest. "It's just… now that I know you were willing to try… It means a lot to me, but I don't want you to keep on going just because you feel like you have to do it for me. I mean, I love you more than you probably can imagine, but I wouldn't be mad if you wanted to stop trying. I'd get it and maybe I'd even manage to stay friends with you because it feels pretty damn good to see you on a regular basis again. So damn good."

"Tony," Gibbs started, his voice shaky now as he looked away from him for a moment before his glance returned to Tony's eyes. "I d-don't want t-to stop t-trying. Sometimes I just think that I'm unfair. What if I c-can't return it and you… you know."

"You're just as bad at talking about that crap as you've always been," Tony grinned ever so slightly and noticed with some satisfaction that his attempt to lighten the mood somewhat had been successful as Gibbs visibly relaxed at his words.

"Listen," the younger man replied. "You won't hurt me just because you want to keep on trying, even if it won't work out. I promise."

"Thanks," Jethro just replied thoughtfully before they fell silent.

Tony knew that Gibbs wasn't done talking just yet, but he didn't want to pressure him. He knew how much he hated talking about his feelings, even more so after his coma. So, he just waited, looking at him intently and after what seemed like a very long time, Gibbs finally continued.

"Sometimes," he said, locking eyes with him again. "There just seems t-to b-be something in the back of m-my m-mind. I d-don't know what it is – I n-never d-do. You know, l-like a m-memory or something and I know it's there, but I just can't s-seem to reach it. I just can't grab it. It's so frustrating. I know that there is something there, but I c-can't d-do anything 'bout it. But I really w-want t-to."

Tony just nodded, not quite sure what exactly Gibbs wanted to tell him.

"I just really want t-to remember," the older man finally concluded, looking so broken that Tony, once again, just wanted to hug him.

"I know," he answered softly. "I know you do."

"I… know it's n-not enough," Gibbs said and then to Tony's utter surprise moved closer and laid his head on the younger man's shoulder.

Tony's arm came around the other guy almost automatically as he tried to keep his heartbeat in check. His heart was beating frantically at the unexpected touch. He rubbed Jethro's shoulder for a while, not knowing what to say or what to do. He knew he couldn't help him. He had done everything he could think of, had told him countless stories about their time together, showed him hundreds of pictures to trigger some sort of memory. Nothing had helped, so he just kept on sitting there now, holding the other man until his breathing slowed down and eventually evened out.

He didn't quite know how long he just sat there like that, savoring in the other man's body against his own, savoring in the contact that he had yearned for so long before Gibbs finally moved again and then sat up, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

"Come on," Tony softly coaxed, unwilling to let go of the moment just yet. "Let's get you to bed."

"Yeah," Gibbs just replied as he got up and then just stood there for a moment before he leaned closer to kiss Tony's cheek.

Tony felt his cheek burn up, still felt the lips that had barely touched his skin even after the door to Jethro's bedroom had already closed behind him. He didn't know what it meant, didn't know if it even meant anything, but maybe, maybe this was exactly what he had needed right there and right then - one tiny gesture to know that he had been right giving it all a chance.

When he finally laid down on the couch, draping the blanket over his body, he couldn't help but realize that this had been the best day since Gibbs had woken up because he, Tony, was the one who had finally woken up from the nightmare this time.

.

The weeks passed by quickly after that. Gibbs hadn't tried to touch him, let alone kiss him again, but it was okay with Tony. He knew that he needed to be patient and that Gibbs would tell him he was ready – for moving on or ending it. Tony wasn't quite sure where exactly they were standing, but he didn't let himself think too much about it. He was content for the time being with just spending time with the other man, even if that time was rather rare lately. Dead sailor after dead sailor had showed up, leaving him and his team barely with time to catch their breaths. He knew that McGee and especially Ziva really needed a break, but he couldn't help them, they'd need to get through it; it wasn't the first time they had done it after all. Dorneget, on the other hand, seemed to thrive under the intense case load and Tony realized that he had made the right decision in taking him under his wing. He liked the guy, he was loyal and hard-working and despite his awkward clumsiness and his ability to put his foot in his mouth at the most inappropriate moments, he was by now a valuable asset to their team. Tony had told Jethro about him, too, and while the older man had just nodded, never saying a word, it was all Tony needed to know that he agreed with his choice. He hardly remembered the guy, but as long as he had their sixes, Tony knew that Gibbs would like Ned, too.

With lots of cases and late nights, Tony didn't even have the chance to think about his relationship with Jethro too much. He still enjoyed seeing him from time to time, missed him like hell when he couldn't, but they had never continued their talk about stopping or keep on trying. In all honesty, Tony wasn't entirely sure he really wanted to. Thing were still a little weird, were still a bit awkward from time to time, but it had gotten better somewhat and Tony hoped that it would get _good_ eventually, even if he could still feel Gibbs' tenseness sometimes and his odd urge to isolate himself whenever things were getting a little too intimate – even if that only meant that their shoulders had touched for a second or Tony's hand had shortly brushed his own.

It was still hurting Tony inside, but not as much as it had used to and he didn't even know whether it was a good or bad thing. Maybe it meant that he had learned to wait or maybe it meant that he didn't care as much anymore. He really didn't know and he tried, almost desperately, not to think too much about it.

.

"Can you believe we actually got a whole weekend to ourselves with no work?" Tony yawned widely as he flopped down on the couch next to McGee.

It was a little over nine o'clock at night and they had finally closed their most recent case a few hours previously before Tony had sent them and himself home. The reports could wait until Monday after all.

"I actually can't," Tim all but groaned as he switched on the television and flipped through a few channels before he settled on a documentary about the Spanish pond turtle.

Tony wanted to tell him that he couldn't think of anything more boring than turtles under water, but simply didn't have the energy to speak anymore. Instead, he just reached for a blanket and covered himself with it. It had been cold outside and raining for days now. He was just glad to stay in tonight and if that meant watching that documentary with Tim, he'd take it and gladly at that because he wasn't entirely sure whether or not he remembered how feeling bored felt like exactly.

His eyelids were already growing heavy half an hour later and he was just about to go to bed when a loud knock on the door disrupted the relative silence in the room. Next to him, McGee jerked awake almost violently and Tony chuckled ever so slightly as he got up.

"Relax. It's probably just your neighbor Mrs. Paddington who forgot to buy some milk for her cats or something," he said as he slowly made his way to the door.

The person on the other side of it was still knocking relentlessly and without pause and Tony grumbled as he sped up as much as his tired limbs would let him.

"Calm down," he finally said when he opened the door. "I'm not that fast."

He fell silent, though, as he saw Jethro standing there, soaking wet from the rain outside, but he didn't even seem to care or even notice as he just stood there staring right back at Tony with an expression on his face that he hadn't seen in a very, very long time.

"Jethro, what –" Tony started, but was cut off by the older man as he stepped into Tim's living room, his eyes never leaving his.

"Shh," he finally spoke up, putting a rather shaky index finger against Tony's lips, who felt himself get all fuzzy inside at the touch.

Gibbs remained silent for a moment or two before a wide smile spread on his face and Tony couldn't help but return it, even though he had no clue what was going on. He just hadn't seen him smile like that in over a year – if ever – and it was kind of infectious. He didn't know what Jethro wanted or why he was there in the middle of the night, dripping wet. He remained silent, though, waiting for the older man to continue. After a little while, he finally did.

"Remember when I couldn't remember about the thing with Leon's wife?" he said, strangely enough without his usual stutter. At Tony's mute nod, he continued more quickly as if he couldn't get it out fast enough. "I r-remember now."

"Remember what?" Tony asked, the smile back on his face as he saw the sheer happiness in the other man's eyes.

"She asked m-me," Jethro continued hastily as if it talking more slowly would make him forget about it again. "Whether you and I w-wanted to have d-dinner at their house."

Tony blinked a couple of times, not quite sure why the other man was so excited about that little piece of memory. It wasn't like it was a gigantic revelation. But as he continued to look into those icy blue eyes, he suddenly realized another thing.

"You and me?" he finally asked and felt his heart speed up at Gibbs' nod.

"But that's n-not what I wanted to t-tell you," Gibbs finally continued, stepping impossibly closer to him. "The r-reason I'm here is… and why this is important… It… it was the morning before… before everything happened. Remember, I asked you if you wanted to g-go and you were g-grumbling because you don't like Leon. I think I said s-something about the k-kids liking you, J-Jared especially and you finally agreed t-to d-do it."

Tony stared at him, feeling the pulse rush loudly through his ears, feeling tears well up just beneath his eyelids as he tried to make sense of everything Gibbs was saying. Was he actually remembering this? Was he actually remembering something about the two of them again? Just as he wanted to reply something – anything… even if he had no clue what exactly he wanted to say because he wasn't entirely sure he could speak right now - Jethro beat him to talking.

"D-d you remember when you told me that you couldn't remember our last kiss?"

Tony nodded mutely, holding his breath as Jethro stepped even closer, so close in fact that he could see very single raindrop on the other man's hair.

"I c-can," he whispered. "You were still sulky, but before we went out of the house, you turned around and gave me a quick peck on the lips. It was the most normal thing on earth, like you've had all the time in the world to repeat it all over again at another time. You t-tasted of your hideous hazelnut creamer and c-coffee."

Tony could feel the first tear run down his cheeks now, could feel happiness suddenly bubble up inside of him, threatening to boil over, but none of that mattered. In fact, he knew that nothing mattered at all anymore. All what was important was standing right in front of him, still smiling at him, even though his eyes were shimmering with unshed tears now. So when Tony finally closed the still remaining distance between them, cupping Jethro's face with both of his hands, he didn't need to think twice about touching the guy, didn't need to think about that he maybe didn't want him to. He just knew that all that had happened this past year didn't matter – would not matter ever again. He took a deep look into the bright blue eyes for a moment longer before he finally leaned into the other man and was met halfway as their lips found each other.

His lips were still as soft as he remembered them, the pressure was still right and when he felt Jethro's tongue asking for entrance, he let his lips slide apart without hesitation. Gibbs still tasted like he always had and even though, it was rather salty-tasting this time, and Tony wasn't sure whether it were his tears or Jethro's, it was the most wonderful taste in the world. He had no clue how long they had already kissed each other when Gibbs' arms came around his waist, drawing him even closer or when he heard the front door close as McGee apparently left his own apartment.

It didn't matter. I simply didn't matter because Tony was finally whole again with the other man in his arms. He didn't know what else to do, so he just held the other man in his arms, kissing him until they both didn't know where one ended and the other one began. If Tony had his will, he would stay like that forever and even if they couldn't, he knew that somehow it would all be alright again.

* * *

_A/N: So, this was the second to last chapter. Hope you liked it... Last chapter should probably be up on Thursday or Friday at the latest. Thanks for reading!_


	21. Part IV Constructing: Equation

_A/N: Here I am at the end of another story! Thanks so much for reading and sticking with me for so long! :) Every single review has lightened my days, so thank you so much (and a special thanks to all the anonymous reviewers to whom I could never respond). Thanks!_

_This will probably the last story from me in a while due to an amazing and unexpected job opportunity that turned up and will keep me busy till March... So, yeah, anyway, I hope you like that last chapter, too! :)  
_

* * *

Chapter Four: _Equation_

If life was a movie, it would have been the end to a crappy lifetime/Nicholas Sparks flick. But life didn't work like that, Tony of all people knew that, even though Gibbs' appearance, dripping wet from the rain, and that kiss had had some quality for a romantic film to it without a doubt. But it simply wasn't like they would just live happily ever after. And Tony, as much as he liked movies, didn't want that anyway. Both he and Gibbs simply weren't cut out for it. Sometimes, he was even sure that they would be bored to death if all went smoothly for once. It was the things that always went wrong that made life interesting after all. Of course, they didn't have to go so wrong as landing one of them in a coma and suffering from amnesia, but still.

Just because they had kissed for what felt like hours, it didn't mean that they had fallen in bed right afterwards, didn't mean that Tony had moved back into Gibbs' house immediately and certainly didn't mean that everything was back to the way things had been a year previously. As much as Tony had wished that it was as simple as that, they needed things to clear up, needed to get used to each other again now that they both had memories to share. Gibbs still didn't remember much, just a few tidbits here and there, but enough to overcome his insecurities when it came to touching Tony, to kissing him and to just spending time with him again without the by now well-known frustration that they had been there before.

After McGee had left his own apartment that night, they had sat down on the couch and had just looked at each other for a very long time. Tony hadn't known whether he was supposed to cry or laugh, so he did both, all the while holding on to Jethro's hand tightly. They had barely talked because touching like that had been enough for the time being. It was all what Tony had needed, had craved for months and he hadn't wanted to lose that skin on skin contact just to be able to talk. They had still time to talk about everything the next day, the next week, the next month. It wasn't all that important anyway. The look on Gibbs' face had told him enough to know that he wouldn't let him go ever again. Told him enough to know that he would eventually get him back for good.

And that's how McGee had found them the next morning, still sitting on the couch, still holding hands and both of them snoring quietly, their faces still turned to one another. Tim had woken them up, a bright smile on his face, causing Tony to give him a brilliant smile in return and to vowing to himself that he had to do something for the Probie in order to get even with him again. It certainly wasn't possible to even do that but Tony would try because he simply would never forget what Tim had done for him over the last year. If it hadn't been for him, Tony was sure he would not have made it through.

Gibbs and Tony had gone home that morning, had talked a few things through and had concluded that they wanted to start their relationship all over again. Tony had still been a bit shell-shocked by Gibbs' sudden recollection, but had gone along with it, simply because he knew that he needed to, needed the other man back in order to become his old self. He didn't care to indulge in that particular thought for too long because it probably wasn't all that healthy to be that dependent on the other man, but it simply didn't matter. He needed this. It was as simple as that.

.

It was the Monday after he had finally moved back in with Gibbs, three weeks after their initial kiss, that Tony and his team were called out early in the morning. Lt. Davenport and his wife Julia had been found dead in their home by a neighbor who had been curious as to why the porch light had been on for the last two nights in a row. They both had been shot in the head from a short distance, indicating that they had probably known their killer. The local LEOs had found their eight year old son Matt hiding away in a closet in his bedroom.

When the team arrived at the crime scene, Tony ordered Ziva to talk to the boy, knowing that it was more likely for the kid to talk to women than to men. It wasn't long after Tony had started to question the neighbor, however, that Ziva waved him over to where she and the boy were standing. The kid looked forlorn and really scared and hadn't uttered a single word ever since he had been found.

"You can do sign language, yes?" Ziva asked him as soon as Tony had approached her.

"A bit. Is he…?" Tony asked confused, looking at the boy for a moment before his glance returned to Ziva, who just nodded. "Okay," he then continued. "I'll try to talk to him. You speak to the neighbor and then start with the photographs."

"Okay," Ziva just said and then left the two of them standing there.

Tony gestured the boy to follow him out of the house and out of view of parents' bodies, realizing that it was hardly a sight for an eight-year-old.

_Hello_. He finally started to sign rather awkwardly, as he had rarely done it himself before because he had only tried to decipher what Gibbs had wanted to tell him. _My name is Tony_. He spelled out his name.

_I'm Matt_. The boy signed back, apparently glad that someone finally could talk to him.

_Nice to meet you. Are you okay?_

The boy shook his head sadly as he stared at Tony with big eyes. Tony went to kneel down in front of him and then carefully used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that was running down the boy's right cheek.

_I'm sorry_. Tony continued to sign after a while and then tried to ask whether the kid had seen anything, but apparently got the signs wrong because the boy just stared him with a confused expression on his face.

_You're bad at signing_. Matt then signed and Tony let out a laugh at that as he nodded.

_I'm just starting to learn_.

This time, Matt nodded and then looked around for a moment as if he was about to do something wrong, but then he just stared at Tony again and continued to sign.

_I can teach you._

_Great_.

"Tony?" McGee interrupted their conversation, looking at his cell phone.

"What's up, Probie?"

"We're about done here and the LEOs have contacted the kid's other relatives. There's only an aunt who lives in Ohio, so it will probably take a while until she'll be here."

"Damn," Tony swore quietly and then looked at the kid for a moment, trying to decide what to do before an idea formed in his mind.

He picked up his cell, pushed speed dial and then waited impatiently until Jethro picked up on the other end.

"Tony?" he asked, apparently slightly surprised he was calling him during work.

"Hey," Tony just said. "I've got a favor to ask."

"What is it?"

"We just got this case and we have this boy here, whose parents have just been murdered. He's deaf and it will probably take a while until someone will come to pick him up. I'm not really comfortable handing him over to Child Services because… well, I don't know… and Abby will be busy the next couple of hours, so I'm wondering if you could look after the boy for a couple of hours? I'd be happier knowing that he can at least talk to somebody while he's waiting for his aunt."

"Sure," Gibbs replied and Tony felt his heart grow lighter ever so slightly.

"Great, I'll drop him off at your place in about half an hour."

"Our p-place," Gibbs corrected him and Tony smiled, knowing that the other guy couldn't see it, but it hardly even mattered.

"Right."

.

Matt had spent the ride staring out of the window, watching the trees and houses fly by. Tony hadn't tried to talk to him again, knowing that it was probably no use. Only when they pulled over into the driveway, did the kid look at him again.

_Friend's house_, Tony signed as he saw Gibbs walked towards them slowly. _His name is Jethro._

Matt just nodded again and then got out of the car, looking from Tony to Gibbs as if he wasn't entirely sure what to do now. Jethro started to sign something that Tony didn't quite catch but the boy apparently did as he started to sign enthusiastically in return.

"I got to go back to work," Tony said. "Could you ask him if he's seen anything?"

Jethro nodded and then signed something before he intently looked at the young boy, who was looking sad again, but he answered almost immediately.

"He says that he went to b-bed around eight o'clock and woke up at about f-five. He wanted to go into the k-kitchen to drink some milk that he saw his p-parents lying there. He says he ran back into his b-bedroom and hid."

"Yeah, that's how the LEOs found him, hiding away in his closet."

"Shit," Jethro mumbled and looked at the boy for a moment. "You g-got any leads yet?"

"No, but we're just getting started."

"Good l-luck."

"Thanks."

Tony waved at Matt, who returned the gesture, and then was about to turn around to get into his car, when a hand, grabbing his elbow, held him back.

"You c-call me when the aunt's here? I'll b-bring him over, then."

"Sure," Tony smiled at him. "I'll do that."

He was about to turn around again when Jethro leaned into him for a moment and gave him a quick peck on his lips before he took Matt by the hand and led him into the house, leaving Tony standing there for a moment, staring after them. Gibbs never used to kiss him in front of others, but Tony couldn't help but realize that he liked that particular change in the older man. Smiling softly, he finally got into his car, determined to find the killer quickly.

.

It turned out to be relatively easy to bring in the murderer in the end. It was the by now well-known case of unrequited love. One of Julia's high school sweethearts, Corey Black, had repeatedly approached her over the last couple of months whenever Lt. Davenport hadn't been around. Their last meeting had been rather disquieting for Corey as Davenport had threatened him with an injunction suit. Corey had left the house then, but had apparently decided to take matters into his own hands and had returned that night to finish both of them off once and for all. He had confessed almost as soon as Ziva had fixed him with one of her death glares and had told them everything in an instant.

All what was left to do now was writing their reports and then go home. Matt's aunt still hadn't shown up but had called in that she would be there in about an hour, so Tony called Jethro, asking him if he could drop him off at headquarters soon. Gibbs had sounded rather cheerful on the phone and Tony wondered what was up with the guy, but then realized that he had probably enjoyed the fact that he someone to keep him company, giving him something to do.

And sure enough, when Jethro walked into the bullpen half an hour later, Matt propped up on his hip and a coffee in the other hand, he did look rather happy for once.

_Hi,_ Tony signed, but Matt just nodded at him, yawning widely.

Jethro smiled at the little boy and then set him down on the ground, gesturing towards his still empty former desk to sit down. Matt followed orders and flopped down on the chair, closing his eyes.

"How's he doing?" Tony asked barely above a whisper, not caring that the boy wouldn't be able to hear him in anyway.

"Okay, I guess. I t-tried to k-keep him distracted. You g-got the murderer?"

"Yeah, ex-boyfriend. Your typical jealousy-case."

"Okay," Jethro just nodded before he looked around the room for a moment, a wistful expression on his face.

Only now did Tony realize that Gibbs hadn't been at NCIS since the morning before the attack. He had never visited before and the younger man suddenly wondered why he hadn't.

"Good to be back?" he finally asked, moving closer to the other man ever so slightly.

"Yeah," Jethro shrugged. "Hasn't changed much, h-has it?"

"Not really. You know us, we don't like change."

"Yeah," Gibbs snorted and then took a sip from his coffee.

"Since when are you drinking coffee again?" Tony asked, settling at his own desk to power down his computer.

"Since today. Kid k-kept me on my toes."

"And you loved every second of it."

"I actually d-did."

Tony just smiled at him and wanted to continue when a distressed looking woman in her forties made her way towards them and upon seeing Matt sleeping in the chair, hurried to get to him, scooping him up. The kid barely woke up, just snuggled closer to her. She caressed him for a while before she turned around to look at Tony and Gibbs.

"Thanks," she finally said. "Your director told me you already found out who did this?"

"Yeah," Tony replied, giving her a small smile. "One Corey Black."

"Julia's ex?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks," Matt's aunt just replied and then focused back on her nephew because he had just finally woken up completely.

She set him down on the ground and the boy started to sign again, causing both Gibbs and his aunt to smile at him.

"What did he say?" Tony asked, frustrated with himself because he hadn't been able to follow.

"He just said thanks and that I'm really nice," Gibbs replied, still smiling at the boy.

"Well, that's a first. Nobody ever called you nice," Tony quipped, earning himself a head slap.

He turned to stare at the older man for a moment or two, feeling a broad smile spread on his own face. He hadn't received one of those in forever and it did something to his stomach. All of a sudden there was something fluttering in there. As Tony was still trying to figure out what exactly it was, Matt had started to sign again, looking at Jethro with a serious expression on his face. This time, even Tony was able to understand what the signs meant and he turned to look at Jethro curiously, wanting to know the answer.

Gibbs just nodded, smiling first at the boy and then at Tony, who returned the gesture, catching Matt sign something again. This time it was Tony's turn to nod before he awkwardly answered.

_I love him, too._

Matt gave them a smile and continued to sign then, but once again it was too fast for Tony. When Jethro let out a laugh, he turned towards him, raising an eyebrow.

"He just a-asked why I hit you when I love you," Gibbs grinned.

"Yeah, Jethro," Tony replied playfully. "Why did you?"

"Because you l-like it," Jethro just answered and then gave Matt his full attention again.

.

Two hours later, Tony flopped down on the couch next to Jethro, putting his feet up on the coffee table and sipping from his beer. The day had been stressful and he felt really sorry for poor Matt, but there was also something uplifting bubbling up inside of him, even though he didn't quite know what it was exactly. Only when he turned to look at Gibbs did he realize that for the first time in months, Gibbs really had been, well, Gibbs again. He was drinking coffee again, had head slapped him, had been at NCIS and had told him he loved him. Tony knew that it wasn't like Jethro would return to work because he simply couldn't do that anymore, but somehow it felt so right having him there that it made Tony's stomach all fuzzy inside.

"What are you s-smiling at?" Jethro asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You," Tony just replied before he leaned closer towards the older man and kissed tenderly for a few moments. "Missed you at work."

"Good to know," Gibbs just replied before he leaned against the backrest of the couch, staring into space for a couple of minutes before he cleared his throat. "I've b-been thinking."

"About?" Tony pressed on, sensing that this was important.

"I n-need something to do with myself again. Working on the b-boat won't be enough."

"Yeah, I know," the younger man said. "So what are you thinking about?"

"N-not sure yet, but I had a great time with Matt today. M-maybe I'll… I don't know, help at the orphanage or s-something like that."

Tony nodded and gave him a broad smile. It was a great idea and he knew that Jethro would love to work with kids. He had always been great with them and Tony knew that it was the right thing to do for him. He also knew that it would help the other man to become more balanced again and it would keep him busy during the day, so that Tony wouldn't have to worry about him so much anymore when he was away at work.

"I think it's a great idea," he finally said and then cupped his right hand behind Jethro's neck, pulling him closer towards him to kiss him again.

They continued to kiss for a while before Tony felt Jethro fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He smiled into the kiss before he leaned back to give the older man better access. They hadn't done anything despite kissing as of yet and while Tony had been patiently waiting for Jethro to take that final step, he wasn't about to wait any longer now. He quickly got rid of his shirt before he all but ripped Jethro's polo-shirt away from him. Their kisses had become sloppy and shaky hands were roaming both of their bodies, but it didn't matter. As they stumbled towards the bedroom, nearly falling over twice before they finally made it to their bed, Tony felt the excitement rise inside of him. They took their time exploring each other's bodies again, took their time to kiss each other thoroughly and re-explore the sensitive spots and when Gibbs finally slid into him, Tony felt like his whole body had been set on fire. He clawed at Jethro's back, pulling him closer and felt the fluttering motion in his stomach again when the blue eyes locked into his green ones. He didn't know what caused it and he didn't care because this was all he ever needed. He finally felt like himself again. He needed Gibbs to be there, needed those blue eyes to look at him like that, shining full of affection and appreciation and love. And when they both finally came undone, they stayed locked for a while, just staring at each other, their fingers intertwined, just wanting to feel the other one as if there was no tomorrow.

.

Much, much later, with Jethro spooning up on him from behind and quietly snoring into his ear, Tony couldn't help but realize that he finally felt safe again. He was back in the older man's arms again, was held by him again as if nothing had ever happened.

Maybe, Tony thought, life was like a crappy lifetime movie after all and maybe they would have their happily ever after. He sometimes still missed Jethro at work, but he knew that the other man was far better off spending time with children because that was what he loved to do and while Tony was still trying to become the boss he wanted to be, he knew that he could count on his team, could count on his friends to back him up and be there for him. And he had something to look forward to every night because Jethro would be there waiting for him. It wasn't like before and things never would be, but Tony realized, just as Gibbs tightened his grip on him, pulling him impossibly closer, that he didn't even want things to go back to normal. He loved the new normal, too. He had all he needed right there and right then and nothing would ever matter as long as he could come home to that.

.

It had been eleven months and four days since it had happened.

Eleven months and four days since his life had been changed, but somehow he couldn't help but feel excited to start that new phase of their life – of his and Jethro's life.

.. End ..


End file.
